


Trial By Fire

by PhoenyxNova



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Archangel Gabriel (Supernatural), Cute Lucifer, Fluff and Smut, M/M, POV Gabriel, Protective Lucifer, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 19:26:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18976858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenyxNova/pseuds/PhoenyxNova
Summary: What happens when the one that raised you becomes your biggest fear? We follow Gabriel from birth to death to find out.





	Trial By Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written before the Empty was a thing, and before Gabriel came back, so it operates under the canon of 2015.

In the beginning of an angel’s life, there are many things that are determined. Gabriel’s life was laid out before him before he knew what any of it meant. The first word he heard was “Messenger” and he knew, without a doubt, that his Father believed he was important.

The first set of arms he felt, however, did not belong to his father. They belonged to an elder angel. A brother. Not a brother by blood, for they did not rightly have any blood to share. A brother in arms. They were warm and safe, and for all of the fledgling’s curiosity, he found himself unwilling to stray from those arms.

His eyes blinked open and he looked up. Everything around him seemed unimportant. He could hear voices, but he couldn’t bring himself to focus on them. All that mattered to him was the brother holding him. The eyes that met his sent waves of unfamiliar emotions through the tiny Archangel’s Grace, and he felt his lips draw back in the happiest smile a child could be capable of.

“Luci!”

There were some chuckles from other angels around him, some commenting that it was impressive that the child already knew his brother’s name. Gabriel didn’t, though. If he did, he lacked the capacity to put it together.

Luci meant ‘light’ was the extent of what he knew. The person looking at him was, unquestionably, the most beautiful being in all of creation. He didn’t have to see the rest of the cosmos to know that it could not get better than the owner of those striking blue eyes.

Then the man finally spoke.

“Hello, Gabriel. My name is Lucifer.” The man smiled the most beautiful smile, and seemed unable to stifle a chuckle. Gabriel’s wings twitched the tiniest bit, dull amber feathers ruffling in a pleased reaction to his elder brother’s voice. The child was blissfully unaware that his wings had already woken up. He had no idea how rare it was for fledglings to have control of their wings so early.

Lucifer found it endearing. He curled two of his bright wings around his little brother, feathers shining like the Northern Lights. Gabriel seemed remarkably disinterested in his wings, however, and kept looking up at the elder angel as though there was nothing else in Paradise. He was far too young yet to understand the look they were getting from their eldest brother.

“You always were soft, Lucifer.” The words were said through tight lips, biting back a snarl. “Father says-“

“Father says a lot of things, Michael.” Lucifer finally looked away from the fledgling to give his elder brother a smile. “He is our brother, every bit the same as the others. Should he not be treated with the same tenderness?”

Michael’s eyes rolled. Young Gabriel could already feel the animosity the eldest felt for the beautiful man holding him, and he didn’t understand it. How could anyone think of Lucifer as anything less than amazing?

Sensing the tension, he pressed a tiny hand against Lucifer’s face, whining when he didn’t immediately look at him. He held the older angel’s face between his hands and made him look at him. There was some kind of emotion behind the blue eyes, and it made Gabriel sad. Sadness was not something he was sure he enjoyed feeling, and he certainly didn’t want the most beautiful angel to feel it. Desperate to make his brother smile, he crossed his eyes and puffed his cheeks out.

Lucifer looked confused for a moment, but laughter bubbled up in his throat. Laughter was a fresh emotion for him, but it was more than welcome. There was a warmth that spread through his Grace in a way that hadn’t before. He grinned happily and pressed his forehead against the younger’s, taking one of his small hands in his own.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let Michael get his hands on you. He means well. He really does, but Father created him to be a soldier. The war against the pagans took a toll on him.” He realized that perhaps the young one might not understand, but the way Gabriel looked at him suggested that he might. He was a smart one. He smiled, playfully nuzzling his nose against the smaller’s.

“Don’t hold it against him. It’s just the way he is. We should love him for that.”

Gabriel smiled. He understood that much. Loving his brothers was manageable, even for an angel that could not yet fly. Lucifer was impressed by the young one’s innate ability to love, without cause or reason to. Perhaps Father had finally grasped the concept that angels were meant to love.

Another laugh passed his lips as a tiny hand reached up to tug at his blond hair. The Messenger was barely an hour old, and he’d already elicited two laughs from an angel that had previously not known what it was like to be this amused.

What the fledgling said next caught Lucifer off guard in the most pleasant way possible.

“I love you, Luci.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few years went by, and Lucifer took Gabriel under his wing. The two hardly left each other’s sides. The day the fledgling learned to walk, there was an undeniable pride in the elder’s smile. He took more joy in raising Gabriel than any others.

When he went to show Gabriel’s newfound walking abilities to the others, he would tell the young one to walk to Michael, and he would only ever walk to Lucifer. While the others thought it was obnoxious, Lucifer had grown to find it endearing. So few young ones had taken a shine to him, he had grown attached to the small Messenger.

The Light Bringer spent nearly every waking moment with him, and he was glad to. There was an attachment he was surprised by. For one so young, Gabriel seemed to have an innate ability to read those around him. He loved to make everyone smile, even if it was at his own expense. And he was the only one that could make Lucifer laugh.

He loved that about him.

Today, he was set on teaching Gabriel the most important thing an angel could do.

“C’mon, Gabe. One more try!”

Gabriel truly was blessed that his brother had such infinite patience teaching him how to fly. It wasn’t for lack of ability, but for the desire to have his brother hold him a little longer. Barely a moment had gone by in his life that the Light Bringer hadn’t held him, despite much criticism from the Six. Michael especially.

“But Luci, if I fly, you won’t carry me anymore!” He managed a pout he couldn’t hold when he heard his brother laugh.

“Gabriel, just because I won’t have a reason to hold you doesn’t mean I wouldn’t find one.” The elder smiled and playfully tickled the younger’s sides. “Fly for me, please?”

The young Messenger nervously bit his lip and nodded. His wings twitched anxiously, and before he knew it, Lucifer had tossed him barely a couple of feet into the air above him. His eyes shut tight, braced for what he assumed would be his inevitable failure.

But he didn’t hit the ground.

He opened his eyes to see Lucifer’s smiling face below him, his older brother’s hands showing themselves.

Only then did it dawn on him. His wings were flapping. He was flying! Ecstatic, he zoomed off, flying in circles, going higher and higher. The feeling of wind in his feathers was everything he had been told it would be. He felt free. Free from responsibilities, free from care, free from everything.

He barely noticed when his wings stopped flapping.

He let out a cry of surprise when he realized he was falling and curled himself into a ball, eyes shut tight. When he felt his older brother catch him, he opened one eye, then the other. When he saw those comforting blue eyes, he grinned.

“Did you see? I flew! My wings flapped and I was in the air!” It was adorable, how Gabriel described flying as though he was the first to accomplish such a feat. What might have annoyed the Six brought the most joyous smile to Lucifer’s face.

“I did see! You were wonderful!” He hugged the child to his chest, cheek nuzzling into the younger’s hair. “I’m so proud of you, Gabriel.” He grinned and flapped his own wings. “Let’s go show Michael!”

Gabriel’s face contorted in a look that resembled disgust. “Michael’s mean. Nothing I do makes him smile.” He grew quiet, a saddened look washing over his young features. “He hates me.”

The bright angel curled his wings around his brother and shushed him comfortingly. “No, he doesn’t hate you.” It saddened him that Gabriel would even think such a thing. “Michael doesn’t hate any of us. He’s just … a hard angel to read. He cares about all of us. He just isn’t as good at showing it as you are. Not all of us are created with your wonderfully natural sense of love and compassion.”

Gabriel looked up at him, head cocked to the side in confusion. “What do you mean? Weren’t we created to love?”

“Some of us were,” he explained. “Most of us are assigned duties. Raphael is the Healer. Selaphiel is the Patron of Prayer. You are to be Father’s Messenger. Michael is our Protector. He is God’s sword. He was meant to fight. He is a soldier. He cannot help his coldness.”

Gabriel nodded in understanding, but remained quiet. “Luci, what are you?”

The question startled the Morning Star. He knew he was the Light Bringer, but he always questioned how much of a purpose that really served. He was unsure how to answer the question. “I’m not sure, Gabe. But I’m sure Father has a plan for me. He just hasn’t told me what it is yet.”

The tiny angel dangled from his brother’s neck in his best attempt at a hug, a bright smile stretching across his face. “It’s gotta be important, right?” His gold eyes sought out the blue again, still smiling happily. “You’re the most important angel in the whole universe!”

The words tugged at Lucifer’s heartstrings. He didn’t think so. In fact, Michael made sure to remind them all how unimportant they all were in the grand scheme of things. He smiled. “I might have to disagree with you, Gabriel. That title belongs to you.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to the fledgling’s forehead, chuckling softly when he saw the younger’s cheeks glow a bright red. “Now come on. I’m sure Michael will be pleased that you’ve started flying. It’s a big day in an angel’s life!” Another chuckle bubbled up in his throat as an idea occurred to him. “As a matter of fact, let’s make things fun.”

When they made their way to Michael, the Soldier was busy at work training some of the underlings. When he saw Lucifer and Gabriel on their way, it took all of his energy not to roll his eyes. Lucifer took great joy in showing off every little thing that the child did, and it was beginning to grate on his nerves.

“Michael! You’ll never guess what Gabriel did! He-“ He squawked and tripped, letting Gabriel go tumbling out of his arms.

Everything happened so fast, Michael couldn’t see where Gabriel had gone. Panic washed over his face. The Messenger was far too important to let anything happen to him. He looked around feverishly, praying that Gabriel was okay.

The littlest Archangel quietly flapped his wings above Michael, snickering to himself. Lucifer was right. This was funny! He glanced at his brother and received the most amused grin he’d ever seen in return.

Suddenly, and without warning, Gabriel descended on Michael. He attempted to tackle the eldest Archangel with all the weight of his little body, and Michael squawked in surprise. Gabriel tumbled to the ground and giggled like the small dork he was.

Michael seemed less than amused. Oh good. Lucifer was starting to teach him how to be a tremendous pain in the ass. He shot the Morning Star a warning glare, but decided to say no more on the subject. He supposed, though, that Gabriel should be commended in learning to fly.

He stood and brushed himself off, trying to regain his composure as he watched the little Messenger pick himself up off the ground. “It’s good to see you flying, Gabriel.” A small smile twitched at his lip. Even he had to admit, so few of the other fledglings were so genuinely _happy_ all the time. It was … refreshing, at the very least. It was either the work of his brother, or by design of his Father. Either way, there had to be some plan behind it. As far as he could see, everything had a purpose.

The least he could do was try to accept this one.

He held his arms out, managing another small smile. “Come here. Let me look at you.”

Gabriel, who had no concept of manners or what be considered rude, promptly wobbled on his stubby legs toward Lucifer, flapping his wings furiously to start flying on his own. The Light Bringer caught him in his arms and hugged him close, offering an apologetic look to Michael.

The Soldier had never been one for compassion or empathy. He rarely cared whether the others liked him. As far as he was concerned, the only thing that mattered was respect. Seeing Gabriel with their brother, however, made him question himself. He felt … jealous. It wasn’t a good feeling, but he had far more important things to do than to worry about them.

In an effort to dissuade a potentially awkward situation, Lucifer bounced Gabriel playfully on his hip and smiled. “Come on, little brother. You’ve had an eventful day. It’s time for you to take a nap.” He held the little angel close and led him away, using his wings to cushion his younger brother’s tiny head.

“But Luci,” Gabriel yawned, “I’m not tired!” He curled his fingers into a ball around some of the fabric of the larger angel’s robes, trying to pretend he wasn’t nearly as sleepy as he was. His wings curled around himself, instinctively cocooning himself like Lucifer had done every night.

The Morning Star chuckled. It was the same song and dance every time it was time for Gabriel to rest, and it never got annoying. He dearly loved this routine.

“Gabe, you /have/ to go to sleep. When you’re older, your Grace won’t need to recharge so much, and you won’t have to sleep at all, but you need to get all the rest you can now.”

What Gabriel said next wasn’t part of the usual script.

The tiny hand tugged weakly at his robes, and he squeaked out, “But if I go to sleep, you’ll do something fun without me.”

It was strangely heartwarming to hear his little brother say that. It caught him completely off guard, but it certainly made him smile.

“I promise I won’t.”

“But how will I be sure?”

If anyone else had asked the question, Lucifer might not have answered truthfully. But those golden eyes of Gabriel’s compelled him to tell the truth, however sentimental he sounded.

With a smile, he replied, “Because I will be right here with you until you wake.” He carried Gabriel into the younger’s chambers and laid down with him, using his own wing to cushion him. Another wing laid atop both of them to keep them warm. The Morning Star had so rarely slept, but after Gabriel was born, he slept soundly every time he held the Archangel in his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Every morning, Gabriel would wake to the same sight of his elder brother holding him close. No matter how big he had grown, Lucifer was always right there. He never got tired of seeing those beautiful feathers blanket him, and it made his heart leap knowing the Light Bringer’s stunning blue eyes would be the first thing he would see.

The older he got, the more he would insist on going to sleep before his brother, and refused to wake up first. He would never say it out loud, but he didn’t want to spend a moment of consciousness away from the brother he’d come to love so dearly.

Today, however, he awoke before his caretaker and snuck away. He had done so for months now, sporadically enough that his brother wouldn’t catch on to what he was doing.

He had grown self-conscious about his wings, ever since he had gotten old enough to care what others thought. Raphael had made _one_ passing comment about how his muddy amber wings were “unfit for an Archangel.” It festered in his mind.

Every morning he was able, he flew closer and closer to the sun, letting his Grace soak up every drop of the Sun’s light. The change was subtle enough, but today he was proud to surprise Lucifer.

The Morning Star groggily opened his eyes and stretched his wings out to shake the sleep away. He had immediately taken notice that Gabriel was not there with him and he smiled. The young one liked to think he was being sneaky, but he had taught Gabriel everything he knew. He’d play along happily, though. If only to see that bright smile when the Archangel thought he’d gotten the better of his big brother.

Sure enough, he could hear his younger brother’s Grace singing excitedly and he laid back down to pretend to still be asleep.

When Gabriel saw his brother, still in bed, he crouched down until he thought he was out of sight. With a soft breath of Grace, he watched as a dove materialized out of a wispy cloud of light. The dove flew gracefully over and landed on the sleeping angel’s arm. A moment later, its beak came down sharply on the top of his head.

Lucifer jolted up and the dove disappeared. He had to hide a smile of pride. Gabriel was getting better at his illusions. Even so, he had to at least act upset if he was to see the joy on his younger brother’s face.

When he turned to face Gabriel, his brother rushed at him, flapping his wings ecstatically. He squawked, caught unawares, and flapped his wings to steady himself. Then he caught a flash of gold from the corner of his eye.

Any notion of faking anger vanished when he realized what it was.

“Gabriel! Your wings!” His jaw dropped. “I’ve never seen them glitter like that!”

Gabriel did indeed look proud of himself, but not for the illusion as might have been expected. He was thrilled that his brother spoke so approvingly of his wings. “I always hoped they’d be as pretty as yours!”

Lucifer wasn’t sure how to react to that. The other Archangels hardly wanted anything to do with him these days, much less seemed to want to emulate him. It was incredibly touching that Gabriel thought so highly of him that he wanted to be like him at all.

“They’re absolutely beautiful.” He spoke with awe, a hand reaching out to smooth some of the stray feathers down. His hand moved on his own, and he hardly seemed aware that he was doing so.

It would not have been Gabriel’s first grooming, but it was certainly the first one that made him absolutely melt under his brother’s hands. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want to question it.

“Yours are still much more beautiful,” he purred, leaning a little heavier against Lucifer’s form.

It was certainly not the first time Lucifer had heard how beautiful he was. Personally, he didn’t quite think so. He was not an Archangel. He was simply a cherub. In his eyes, Gabriel was much more beautiful. But hearing such words of praise from the younger almost made him rethink his opinion of himself.

“You’re awfully sweet to say that,” he purred. His wings twitched a little. How long had Gabriel’s hand been petting his feathers? He hummed softly, leaning back against his little brother. “You are far too precious for this world.”

It was so rare that Lucifer spoke that affectionately, Gabriel was caught off guard. Something in his Grace called out for more, but he wasn’t sure why.

Days later, Lucifer could make an educated guess why they had spent almost an entire day just petting each other. From a distance, he could see Gabriel compulsively collecting fabric. It was Gabriel’s first nesting season. He found himself feeling self-conscious. He wasn’t sure what to do or what to say. He decided to keep his distance.

Gabriel was confused by many things. He wasn’t sure what was compelling him to build a nest, and he wasn’t sure if he should be worried. His wings shone a little brighter, and they wouldn’t stop twitching. He _needed_ someone to touch them. He needed someone to touch _him_. He curled up in his nest, night after night, feeling colder and more alone with every passing second.

Why wasn’t Lucifer coming near him? His entire life, he had never known a day without his big brother, and it scared him.

Some of the other angels seemed to be finding mates. It gave him some comfort to see that he wasn’t behaving too irrationally, but his own loneliness was starting to set in. Did he need to find a mate? He didn’t want anyone around him but the angel that raised him.

Sheepishly, he approached Lucifer. There was an underlying fear of rejection he wasn’t familiar with, and he hated it. But he managed to muster the courage to ask, “Luci?”

Relief washed over the elder angel when he heard Gabriel’s voice. He turned to face the younger, voice stopping short in his throat before he could formulate words. The sight of Gabriel’s bright, more colorful plumage.

The fear of rejection was suddenly all too real for Gabriel, but he couldn’t stop the words. “Would you…” He had no idea what he was doing, but he felt it was almost natural. He felt so much comfort in Lucifer’s arms, he didn’t want anyone else. “Would you … join me in my nest?” His face was bright red. It sounded so much better in his head. He had no clue what he was doing, and he was scared to death it would make Lucifer laugh at his inexperience.

But there was no laughter. His elder simply smiled and took one of his hands in his own. “Gabriel, I would like nothing more.”

When they found themselves laying in the mess of a nest Gabriel had constructed, the rest seemed instinctual. Truthfully, neither of them had experience. They didn’t know many things, but they knew enough to know they fit together.

Too far gone in their need, no words were exchanged. They lay in silence, gently grooming each other’s wings. Lucifer, gazing in awe of the gold and teal feathers of his superior. Gabriel, unable to help himself from nestling in Lucifer’s pinkish plumage.

It didn’t take long for their first kiss to be exchanged. They knew then, they didn’t want any others. Their twitching wings found comfort in the other’s hands. The two cuddled for days before they realized they needed more. The longer they felt each other’s hands on their bodies, the more they needed.

Slowly, they each stopped touching the other. They weren’t entirely sure how to proceed. Gabriel was unsure if he should bend to his elder, and Lucifer was unsure if he should kneel to his superior. They stared at each other for longer than their bodies could stand.

Then, Gabriel did something else Lucifer hadn’t quite expected.

The Archangel gently, cautiously, nervously took the other’s hands in his own and pulled him close. He pressed the gentlest of kisses to his elder’s lips, pulling Lucifer on top of him as he slowly laid back.

Power was scary to Gabriel. Michael had power. Raphael had power. Gabriel had seen what power did to people, and he wanted no part of it. Lucifer had always taken care of him, and he had nothing but trust that he would continue taking care of him.

The way the Messenger’s legs cradled him, Lucifer understood. Nothing needed to be said. It wasn’t power over Gabriel he craved. It wasn’t power at all. It was just him. And he would do anything in the world for him.

The moment skin touched skin, they were lost. Their bodies were set alight, sparks racing from the tips of their wings to the depths of their Grace. It was the first time either of them had known such a touch, and they were far too overwhelmed to understand what exactly they were feeling.

All of the sensations built up for what seemed like hours. It may well have been, for all they knew. Just as they had begun to hope it would never end, pleasure burst forth from both of them like a volcanic eruption. Their Graces intermingled, tangling together in ways that could never be undone. It was like the missing pieces to the puzzle they never knew were missing, all fell into place in that one moment.

All at once, all of their insecurities melted away.

It all made sense now.

They were made for each other. They were always meant to be together.

After all of the snarling Michael had done, Gabriel was terrified to make his relationship with Lucifer public. His lover didn’t mind. In fact, he encouraged it. They knew neither of them were ashamed. It was purely a concern of safety. Gabriel was scared to death that Michael would kill Lucifer if he so much as suspected the Morning Star trying to “rise above his station,” just like Lucifer worried that Michael would demote Gabriel in the most painful way, should he ever find out just how much his Messenger broke the mold.

It was almost agony, realizing just how little their brothers cared for their happiness, but it was agony that was forgotten the moment they were together.

Gabriel had begun raising fledglings, just as Lucifer had raised him. He raised them to love, and to accept every angel, no matter what. He taught them compassion. More importantly, he taught that they _did_ have free will, despite what Michael wanted them to believe. Father created them all with an innate sense of self. It was up to them how to use it. No one could tell them what to do.

It was a lesson that always made Lucifer smile. He appreciated Gabriel’s passion. It was unfortunately rare to see, but he wasn’t surprised. Father created him with a heart that big for a reason. Perhaps it was to teach them what Michael could not.

Every day, Gabriel would shower his love on his younger siblings, and every night, he would shower his love on his mate. Every day, Lucifer would see Gabriel’s wings shine a little brighter.

It was only possible for an angel to change his wings, if it was a conscious decision. Gabriel told him long ago that he wanted his wings to shine like his own, but he didn’t quite believe him then, and he didn’t believe it now.

After all the years, now, of watching the way Gabriel yearned for the approval of his elder Archangels, he could figure out why his wings glimmered the faintest hints of gold.

When they retired to their nest for the night, Lucifer held his lover close, pressing the tenderest of kisses to his back and wings. The mere thought of Gabriel’s insecurities he was too afraid to mention to even him, tore at him.

“You have the most beautiful wings,” he purred, hands kneading gently at the tensed muscles of his mate’s primary wings. “I wish you could see that.”

Gabriel’s cheeks reddened. Lucifer was saying that more and more, and he dared not tell him how much it was appreciated. Not because he was afraid of rejection anymore, but because there was no good way to say it out loud. Not now, after all these years.

Then, he felt the sweet tingle of Grace, sliding across each and every feather. His lover was doing something magical, and he found he didn’t want to question it, no matter how curious he was.

He resigned himself to the pleasant sensations, wings pressing into the skilled hands of his brother. His eyes shut, gently humming a lazy tune that always seemed to make Lucifer smile.

When he opened them again, a bright gold light caught his attention.

He was startled to find out the glimmer belonged to his own wings. They were no longer a muddy amber masquerading as gold. They glistened like the sun itself. Like the purest gold.

Tears sprang to his eyes. He knew what Lucifer had done, and he could gather why he’d done it. He lowered his wings and leaned against the other, pulling those arms around him.

“I love you, Luci.”

There were many mixed feelings, the day Father created the humans. The young ones were excited. In a way, they were like a younger sibling. Younger siblings that didn’t have wings. They really weren’t so different from angels. It was only natural to love them.

There were those, however, that relished the times they were the only ones God had affection for. Chief among them was Michael, though he dared not speak his true feelings. Father told them all they must love the humans. It should have been easier for him. He could do nothing but follow orders, or so he believed.

Gabriel, of course, loved them unconditionally. They were precious. They really were like tiny angels. Father wouldn’t have created them if they weren’t meant for something great. And there, in the Garden of Eden, they could grow to be amazing.

It was Lucifer that couldn’t quite bring himself to love the humans. The orders had been to love them as they loved their Father, but he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t bear the thought of loving _anyone_ more than the Creator. The very notion made him feel uneasy. Like he was breaking some fundamental rule of his existence.

It wasn’t that Gabriel didn’t question Father’s judgement. He had been given no reason to love the humans. But they were no different from the fledglings, in his eyes. They were children, and they needed guidance. They needed the angels to treat them as equals. He realized he was the only Archangel that thought such things, but that did not dissuade him from wanting to see the best in them.

“But _why_ , Gabriel?” What their brothers might have read as anger, Gabriel knew to be desperation. Lucifer desperately wanted to understand how God expected them to love the humans as much as they loved Him. “Father calls them His perfect creation. Doesn’t that pain you?”

“It does,” he admitted. “But we have to give them a chance. You know Father doesn’t do anything without good reason. We might not understand it now, but I’m sure we will.” He offered his mate a loving smile and gently brushed a thumb against the other’s cheek. “Give them a chance. They may surprise you!”

The Morning Star sighed. He still wasn’t convinced of the humans’ worthiness to be loved, but he trusted Gabriel. He wanted Gabriel to be right. Maybe they would turn out better than they all expected. It was a hope he could cling to, at the very least.

Weeks passed, and the angels watched intently. They dared not interfere yet, curious to see the nature of these humans. Father called them Adam and Lilith. Everyone watched carefully, but no one watched more carefully than Lucifer.

He watched as Lilith refused Adam, time and time again. Adam grew more and more impatient that Lilith would not sleep with him. After all, it was what God wanted. Something about Lilith intrigued Lucifer. She knew God’s plan, and proudly defied him. For one of God’s perfect creations, he seemed lax to punish her for disobeying him.

Or, perhaps, these humans were created with different rules than the angels.

That didn’t sit right with him. For the first time, he didn’t want to talk to Gabriel about his uneasy feelings. He knew what Gabe would say. He would say, “No, you’re overreacting. Father has a plan. Just wait and see.” His mate, ever the optimist, would cling to faith that everything would work out.

Time passed, and Lilith left the Garden of Eden. Willingly. She had no desire whatsoever to bow to Adam simply because God told her to. Lucifer could not help but want to speak with her. He dared not, though, for he did not want to tread through dangerous waters. Michael hated her. _Loathed_ her. All for standing up for her own rights. Michael took orders more seriously than any of them, to a dangerous extreme. Father forbid, any word of Lucifer’s doubts reach Michael’s ears.

When Lilith left, God reached down and created Eve, born of Adam’s rib. As Eve was made from a piece of Man, it was clear she served no other purpose but to serve. God had, perhaps, learned his lesson. Lucifer’s heart dropped.

Then he heard Father tell them of the Tree of Knowledge. He commanded that Adam and Eve never eat from the Tree, and that confused Lucifer even more. He knew the Tree would give them an understanding of nature and the way of things. Why shouldn’t they eat from the Tree? What harm would it do? How could Father toy with them like this?

He meant no harm. He had no ill intention. He had watched his Father give the humans a second chance. Surely he would have the patience to let them stray once again.

In an attempt to mask his Grace from his brothers, he disguised himself as a snake and snuck into the Garden. He could not hide, however, from Gabriel. The Messenger could feel his mate from the other end of the cosmos. They had not been permitted to enter the Garden yet, but he trusted Lucifer not to do anything dangerous. With a whispered spell, he used his own Grace to hide his lover and the conversation he was bound to have.

Lucifer wanted to talk to Eve. Adam reminded him too much of Michael. He wasn’t sure how much he could stand to confront that kind.

Eve seemed nice enough. Naïve, but Lucifer could expect no less from someone created only to submit.

“Why do you bend so easily,” he asked, slithering onto a rock to make himself more visible. “You are not the first woman. She refused to submit, yet you do so willingly. Why?”

Eve smiled, as one that did not understand her situation might. “God created me for a purpose,” she said. Lucifer knew the words were not her own. Adam had told her that many enough times that she believed it.

“God creates all of us for a purpose. He gave you Free Will, and yet you do not exercise it. Such a curious creature you are.” The serpent was sincerely interested in understanding. He wanted to know how the humans worked. He wanted to have faith.

Eve’s smile faded little by little, looking confused. “What do you mean?”

“God placed you in paradise. A Heaven on Earth. He gave you the ability to come and go as you please, and places you within arm’s reach of the most important tree in existence, and you unquestioningly obey him.” He slithered a little closer. “Are you not curious why?”

The woman’s brow furrowed. She was clearly unsure what he was talking about, or what he meant. “God said-“

“God says many things,” he all but snapped. His reaction surprised him. He took a moment to compose himself before speaking again. “The Tree is important. Very important, to you and to Adam. The Tree of Knowledge grants an understanding of the world to those that eat from its fruits. I do not understand why God would tell you not to touch it, but its fruits will help you. It will help you to understand your purpose. Why you are here. What you are meant for. It is a gift. One so few people are granted.”

He had truly meant no harm. He sincerely thought he was helping. The Fruit of Knowledge would help the humans become the perfect creatures God wanted the angels to love. He was sure of it.

When Eve contemplated his words and scurried off to find Adam, Lucifer disappeared. He returned home, and spoke no word of what he had done. Gabriel knew, though. He knew, and he prayed that Lucifer was not wrong in his assumptions.

Instead of exchanging words, Gabriel insisted on showering his mate in affection. He wanted – no, needed – Lucifer to know just how loved he was, just in case things took a turn for the worse.

The next morning, they awoke to the most dangerous screech any of them had ever heard. It rattled all of them to the core of their Grace. Father was furious.

As Gabriel was the only one he could speak through, Gabriel bore the full brunt of Father’s anger. It terrified him, as he was sure it terrified even Michael. That had to be why Michael obeyed Father’s word to the letter. He must have been afraid of incurring Father’s wrath, as these humans had.

And yet, the humans were still given a pass.

God decreed that since they had disobeyed him, they were to be denied paradise.

Lucifer watched in horror. Father HAD punished them. But … But he had helped them. Had father created them to be as obedient as the angels? Then what was the point of creating them differently?

The longer he thought about it, the stronger the thought in the back of his head grew.

If Father had created them to be perfect, they would not have been able to disobey him. They were not perfect. Father ordered them all to worship these flawed creatures as though they were perfect.

It didn’t make sense.

Gabriel flew to his mate’s arms, looking up into the sky blue eyes for the comfort he felt he needed so badly. Father knew it was Lucifer that tempted the humans. Gabriel had managed to convince God to forgive Lucifer. He knew his mate meant no harm. Truth be told, had Lucifer not told Eve to eat from the tree, Gabriel would have.

He could not bring himself to worry his lover with warnings. Not now. They needed each other’s comfort. For the moment, they both just needed to be held.

Gabriel nuzzled his cheek against Lucifer’s chest, reassuringly snuggling against the elder. He needed his brother to know.

“I love you, Luci.”

Years passed, and Lucifer grew to resent the humans with each passing day. Had an angel disobeyed Father as they had, there would be one less angel in Heaven. The humans were not only given a second chance, but they were given the ability to create a family.

He watched the two brothers, Cain and Abel, grow up. They were close. Cain, the first born, was a crop farmer. The younger, Abel, was a shepherd. As they grew, Lucifer could see Father grow attached to them. Again, he found himself wondering what made them so special. What made them more deserving of Father’s love than he or his brothers?

He watched in silence. He watched as the brothers made an offering to God. Cain offered some of the land’s produce, while Abel offered up some of the firstborn of his flock. God accepted Abel’s offering, but not Cain’s. That was curious. God had taken a shine to Abel, and Lucifer was jealous. He hated to admit it, but he was jealous. He was well aware that he was – or maybe _had_ been – God’s favorite. And now, he felt he was watching that status fall to someone else. Someone that murdered the animals he looked after in order to please God.

It wasn’t right.

Once again, Lucifer slithered down, disguising his Grace once again.

“Abel,” he purred, appearing as nothing more than a man to the younger of the two brothers. “May I have a word?”

Abel smiled and nodded, approaching the stranger. “May I ask your name?” he asked.

Lucifer ignored the question. “I heard God Himself accepted your offering of sheep.” Abel didn’t seem bothered that he did not reveal his identity. It reminded the Morning Star of his own mate, which only broke his heart more. “Is it not curious?”

“Is what curious?” the child asked. He had his mother’s same look of confusion and naivety. It was almost endearing on the young man’s face.

“That God would ask you to slaughter innocent animals for your offering to be accepted. Cain’s offering required no bloodshed, and yet it was not accepted as yours was.”

If Lucifer had known it would be this easy to corrupt the child, he might have done so earlier. All he needed was for a human to disobey Father again to prove they were not worthy of the angels’ love. Then, hopefully, things could go back to the way they were. They could all be happy again, and they would never have to worry about being brushed aside for a flawed experiment.

Abel seriously considered these words. Hearing it put like that, he did wonder why God would choose the bloodier of the two offerings. That didn’t add up. God was good. God would never ask anything bad of them, would He?

“It doesn’t seem fair to your brother, does it?”

The words snapped Abel out of his thoughts, eyes locking on the strange man. He was right. It wasn’t fair. “Is there anything I can do to make it right?”

Lucifer took a step toward the child and nodded. “Take the offering back. Kill your flock in protest. Make it clear to God that you do not agree with his judgement.” One way or another, he was going to have this boy expelled as Lilith was.

Abel scurried off to contemplate these new options, and before Lucifer could leave, he heard a voice calling out to stop him.

He glanced up. The First Born, Cain, pleaded for him to stop. “Please, sir. Don’t do this. Abel is just a boy.” Cain seemed to know exactly who Lucifer was. His mother had told him stories of a serpent that tempted her, just as this man tempted Abel.

“Aren’t you jealous?” Lucifer asked. “God favored a misguided offering over yours. Does that not infuriate you?” When Cain shook his head, there was a passing thought that this man might just be the human God meant to create.

Right then, his plans changed.

“If Abel does what you suggest, there will be no paradise for him in the afterlife.” Cain had an unmistakable pleading in his voice that reminded the angel a little too much of Gabriel.

It was not a secret to him anymore that Gabriel had begged God for Lucifer’s forgiveness. If Cain was like Gabriel at all, maybe corrupting this one would make more of a point. The slightest of smirks tugged at the corner of Lucifer’s mouth.

“What will you offer me to help your brother?”

Cain barely hesitated. “My soul. I will gladly take an eternity of pain in the afterlife, if my brother can be spared. My soul for his.”

Lucifer accepted without hesitation. “On one condition, of course.” He gracefully stepped toward the corpse of one of Abel’s sheep, cruelly killed to be offered to God. His foot came down on the head of the dead creature and he pulled a piece of the jawbone, holding it out to Cain. “You must be the one to send Abel to Heaven.”

Cain looked horrified. He stared in shock, unable to believe what he was being told.

“Quickly, before Abel does something to forbid his soul from entering Heaven.”

Cain did not need to be told twice. He took the jawbone and hid it amongst his clothes. Lucifer vanished, to the naked eye, but watched as Cain called out to his brother. With a smile, the elder brother led Abel into the forest with promises of joy and play.

As soon as his little brother’s back was turned, Cain withdrew the jawbone from its hiding place and stabbed it into Abel’s back. There was an ear piercing shriek. Tears sprang into Cain’s eyes as he brought the bone down onto Abel’s head. He bashed, stabbed, and slashed wildly, trying to make sure Abel was dead.

Lucifer appeared again, cocking his head, almost admiring the passion with which Cain murdered his own brother.

The first born looked up at him, tears streaming down his young face. He waited for the angel to kill him, but it didn’t happen. They stared at each other in silence for far too long. Cain balled his hands into fists, clenching the bone in his hand, and screamed. “What are you waiting for?! Kill me!” He swung the bone at the angel, hoping to provoke some kind of attack.

But it didn’t happen. Lucifer grabbed the hand that swung at him and squeezed, forcing Cain to his knees too easily for the human’s liking. The murderer winced and started to scratch at a burning sensation in his forearm. It burned more and more and more, until it was unbearable. He let out a cry of pain as one of the letters of the Tetragrammaton seared itself into his flesh. It was far too much. This isn’t what he bargained for. He tried to throw the bone down, but it would not leave his hand.

Lucifer didn’t smile. He had gotten his way. He had the proof he needed. But this wasn’t the way he hoped to get it. He threw Cain to the ground and sneered at him. “Go to God. Tell him what you’ve done. You’re his now.”

 

Gold feathers glistened in the morning light as Gabriel shifted to curl into the arms of his lover. His wings stretched to shake off the sleep, hands groping around for the familiar warm touch of his elder. He found nothing. His eyes opened one at a time, fighting to focus against the Heavenly light to try to find the form that must have been beside him.

There was no one there.

He picked himself up and looked around. Panic coursed through his entire being. In all his years, he had never woken up alone. Lucifer was always right next to him. There was no reason for him to be gone, was there? Unless….

Michael’s Grace screamed out for the other Archangels to assemble. Father was furious, and everyone knew why. Cain had committed murder, against his own brother no less. The Chief of Angels knew exactly who was to blame, and he was every bit as furious as Father was.

If what Gabriel feared was true, things were going to go downhill very quickly. He needed to talk to his father. Before anything else, he needed to speak to his creator.

In a rush of feathers, he appeared in the presence of the Divine Light, feathers covering his eyes in respect. “Father, please tell me Michael is wrong.”

There was an unnerving silence. God so rarely took his time answering.

“Gabriel, it breaks my heart. He had so much promise. More than Michael … More than Uriel … More than Raphael …”

“More than me?” There was no hurt in his voice. Gabriel knew very well that he was not the favorite, and it never bothered him. He was not created to feel jealousy. He was not created to feel envious. Come to think of it, he was not really created to feel much. Maybe that was why he always felt a little … well, blasphemous when he was with …

“He was meant for more things.” The Creator’s light dimmed solemnly. Gabriel had never known his father to show such emotion. He was protective, of course, and wrathful to be sure. But he had never seen his father show _pain_. What surprised Gabriel more was that it was not pain from the loss of his favored human, but for the corruption of his favored angel. “Your brother …. He needs you more now than anyone else. But I need you to do this for me…”

 

Michael’s voice echoed throughout Heaven, announcing all too gleefully the news.

_Lucifer has fallen._

The Morning Star cringed. No. No, this wasn’t supposed to be happening. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. All he had wanted to do was prove a point. He didn’t expect his Father to be so angry. He didn’t expect this kind of hatred. He had hoped Father would be forgiving with Cain. Now Cain was cursed to walk the Earth until the end of time, unable to die, forever plagued with the knowledge that he murdered his own brother.

And now, he feared Father would do the same to him.

Faceless angels threw Lucifer to Michael’s feet, expecting some judgement. Angels had never known this kind of resentment before, and it hurt Lucifer to his very core. This wasn’t what he wanted. His eyes slowly raised to see his eldest brother, scowling down at him. No, not scowling. There was some semblance of self-righteous, unjustified sense of satisfaction.

Michael knew well why Gabriel was not there. Gabriel was the Messenger, after all. He was getting orders from Father. It was only a matter of time before the order was passed to cast Lucifer out. The Prodigal Son would be gone soon.

Until then, his brother were angry. Lucifer had disturbed the peace. Michael could see in their eyes that they wanted him to bleed. With a nod of his head, he gave the approval they sought.

Gabriel flew in the second things became violent. Angels were meant to be better than this. He used his wings and all of his power as an Archangel to protect his brother, sparing only a glance to him before turning his gaze to Michael. “You should be ashamed of yourself. The way you’re acting. He’s our brother!”

“He’s a freak,” Michael retorted, more of a bite to his tone than anyone could have expected. Even Lucifer recoiled. Gabriel didn’t know what to do. The others didn’t know about the affair he had been carrying out with the Morning Star. Now, he was afraid to admit such a thing. He risked the same exile Lucifer faced, which only meant he could no longer keep the cherub safe.

Gabriel looked down at Lucifer, apologetically. The two understood, in that moment, that they would do what needed to be done. When the Messenger’s golden eyes finally fell back to the Soldier’s, there was an unusual coldness to them. “Leave me out of this.” He looked again at his lover … at his brother … and said with an unintended bite, “You’re Michael’s case.”

 

Gabriel sat in the palace. A decision had been made, and he had been dragged, kicking and screaming, into the mess he wanted nothing to do with. He grit his teeth against the tears that threatened to remove any doubt he was emotionally compromised. Couldn’t Father have asked Michael to do this?

There were cries that rang out from the courtyard outside. Lucifer’s voice. Desperate pleas for someone to listen. That their orders to love the humans weren’t fair. A crowd gathered only to scream about how wrong Lucifer was, and only Gabriel could hear the pain in Lucifer’s voice when the question was asked: Why?

Gabriel could hear the tears in his mate’s voice as he cried out for someone to listen. The humans were flawed. They willingly broke God’s heart. If they were the perfect beings God tried to pretend they were, they would have been unable to do so. At every turn, there was no human that was immune to temptation. They always fell victim to it, every time it mattered most.

He cried out that he didn’t mean for it to go this far. He only wanted his brothers to be free of this order to love those monsters. This was the proof they needed to be free of the humans.

The pleas for anyone to listen suddenly cut short, leaving screams of agony. The angels were tearing him apart. They hated this angel that dared rebel against their Father. Maybe they acted this way to win favor with their creator. Maybe they believed shunning Lucifer would exempt them from judgement.

The Messenger of God glanced up, hearing the angry rabble dragging the broken rebel into his presence. _Oh Father, no. Please don’t make me do this. It doesn’t have to come to this._

With what he knew of the situation, he knew it would come to this. With no precedent, this was a decision all of the Seven had to come to, and yet Gabriel’s vote was a minority. There was nothing more he could do to beg Father to forgive Lucifer again. He had hoped upon hope itself that Father would have had Michael deliver the sentence. As it was, the only hope he had left was that perhaps he could try to resolve the situation peacefully.

For the second time today, Gabriel was face to face with his lover, knowing full well what needed to be done. This could very well be the last time he ever saw Lucifer.

Gabriel played the fool, as he was so used to doing. If this had been the first time he had seen Lucifer since he’d spoken out, perhaps the burden could have been lifted a little. It could have made the decision a little easier. However, after seeing how savagely the angels had attacked him, Gabriel found it more and more difficult to maintain a cool head. He had to steel himself. He had to be the Archangel he was created to be. But, he could still hope that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. There always was. His light had always been Lucifer. He just prayed that the light would not dim before he could catch up to it.

“And so the rebel is once again my guest.” He looked up at Uriel, the angel that wore an unfortunately wicked smirk. Had decorum allowed it, Gabriel would have wiped that sickening smirk off of his brother’s face. “And why is this? Was Michael unimpressed?”

Uriel’s smirk widened into a grin. Michael’s influence, he was sure. “The Messenger is required to pass judgement. We need to cast him out, Gabriel.”

The words chilled him to the bone. Of course that’s what they wanted. Michael liked that sort of drama. Raphael thrived on it as well. Selaphiel looked away in shame toward Barachiel and Jophiel. The cowards had allowed themselves to be bullied by the other three into agreeing that Lucifer needed to go. Gabriel knew, in their hearts, they wanted him to stay as much as he did. But that didn’t matter now. None of it mattered now.

Gabriel turned to Lucifer, heart aching for the bloodied angel. He knew God had spoken of this day. Long ago, he was told that there would be an angel to fall, which would serve as the Adversary. He had prayed with all his hear that it wouldn’t be Lucifer.

His heart heavy, he let himself slip into the tone he needed. He needed the angels to see him as the Archangel he was supposed to be. There could be no room for questions, even if it tore him apart to speak these words to the brother he loved so dearly.

“Talk to me, Lucifer. You have been brought here, manacled and beaten by your own people. Do you have the first idea why you deserve it?” He knelt in front of his brother, using the gentlest of touches to lift the rebel’s chin, gold eyes seeking out the familiar blue orbs. “Listen to me. They claim you are a false king. Where is your kingdom?”

It was here that Gabriel saw the full extent of what the mob had done to the Morning Star. Lucifer was struggling to maintain his pride, blinking up at his younger brother through one swollen eye. “I have no kingdom. In this world, I’m through.” Angry voices from angels rallying behind them shouted insults, that both tried to ignore. Gabriel, because he was sure they were meant for him. Lucifer, because he knew they weren’t. “There may be a kingdom for me somewhere, if we only knew.”

Trying his best to tune out the angry voices, Gabriel stood, stretching to his full, unimpressive height. The crowd was more than he thought he could handle. Seeing such hatred from his brothers and sisters tore into him like a knife, and he knew what they wanted him to say. They thirsted for it. He wasn’t sure if he had the will to say it.

“So you are a king?”

“It’s you that say I am.” Lucifer was now visibly struggling to maintain his emotions now. He knew, as well as Gabriel, what needed to be done. Like Gabriel, he wished it didn’t have to come to this. As resigned as he was to his fate, it broke his heart that it was Gabriel that was forced to pass judgement. “I live for truth, and find that I get damned.”

“And what is truth? Is truth a changing law? We both have truths, brother. Are mine the same as yours?” The eyes of the angry angels bore into him like fire. It was all he could do to keep his focus on Lucifer. The source of so much of his comfort was now the object of so much hatred.

Through all of his work to maintain his façade, Gabriel’s struggle was becoming ever clearer. He was trying to reconcile something about this rebel in front of him, and only Michael could see that. Even Lucifer was blind to Gabriel’s attempts to help him find some form of redemption. Anything to save him from what would almost assuredly be a fate worse than death.

Some members of the crowd were beginning to see through the mask, and the others joined in the cacophony of death threats. They wanted Lucifer exiled. Killed. _Crucified_. Gabriel’s stomach churned at the very thought, for he knew Michael would never let their brother off that easily.

His wings flared, an attempt to quiet the crowd by reminding them of his rank. He took a few steps away from the once proud angel knelt on the marble, addressing the horde more directly. “You would crucify your own brother?” Some voices carried over the din, calling out to him to grow a back bone. To make a choice. He could hardly stand to look at them, and chose instead to look back at his brother. He still held out hope that he could talk some sense into Lucifer. “He’s done no wrong. Not the slightest thing.”

The screams grew louder. _Do what must be done! Michael would have killed him by now! Kill him! Cast him out! KILL HIM! **KILL HIM!**_

Gabriel rounded on the crowd, wings flaring again. How dare they turn on their brother like this? “What is this new respect for Michael? Till now this has been noticeably lacking.” Two of his wings stretched downward to shield Lucifer from the flock’s hateful gaze. He deserved so much better than this. “He has done nothing but love you too well. Loved Father too well. Why do you _hate_ him like this?”

The roar picked up again. _You’re the Messenger! Tell us what Father wants done! He is not one of us! KILL HIM! **KILL HIM!**_

He looked back, finally meeting Lucifer’s eyes. For a moment, time stood still. Each brother looked at the other, and they knew neither of them wanted this. Lucifer, silently begging Gabriel to do what he had to. Gabriel, silently begging Lucifer to let him help. A desperate plea was read in the golden hues that threatened to rain. _Let me help you. Please, don’t make me do this. Not after all we’ve been through. Don’t make me go through this ordeal by fire._

What left his mouth, however, surprised him. It made his stomach churn. The words weren’t his own, and he prayed that Lucifer knew that about him.

“Look at your brother. I’ll agree he’s mad. Ought to be _locked up_ … But that is not a reason to destroy him.” He padded forward a few paces to stand in front of the broken angel. Michael’s judgmental gaze burned into the back of his head, and he realized his delicate position. For the first time in this ordeal, he felt real fear.

“He’s a sad little man. Not a king or god… Not a thief. I need a crime.” His gaze turned back to the crowd once more. “What has he done to deserve this?”

Even the seraphs had joined in to shout their obscenities. They called Lucifer filth, a snake, a monster. A _freak_. They said these things about the brother that had done nothing but care too fondly for their wellbeing. It took every fiber of his being not to lash out at them.

The quickest glance at the other Archangels, however, set him back on track. He was there to do a duty. Despite all his protestations, he had to give the angels what they wanted.

“Behold your brother…. Behold your shattered king.”

Voices angrily raised above the others, some reminding Gabriel that the Archangels were their leaders. How the Archangels were the ones to look up to. There were even some that sung praises to the Seven.

A scoff bubbled up in Gabriel’s throat before he could stop himself. “You hypocrites! You hate us more than him!” He paced, trying to work everything out in his head. There was no way to stall any longer, but he wanted the rabble to see that this wasn’t what they were meant for. “I see no reason. I see no evil. This man is harmless, so why does he upset you?”

He glanced at Lucifer again, perhaps to find some comfort. He found none. An emptiness crept up in his heart upon the realization that he may never feel comfort like he had known in the arms of his brother.

Who was he trying to convince now? He couldn’t be sure, but the words kept coming. “He’s just misguided. Thinks he’s important…..  But to keep you vultures happy, I shall flog him.”

The words surprised both of them. The words surprised the other Six. This wasn’t like Gabriel. A lingering thought in the back of his mind suggested that maybe he was angry at Lucifer for letting things get this far.

He waved a seraph over and stood back, counting the lashes each time the whip snapped against the Morning Star’s back.

If Gabriel thought his actions before were unforgivable, he may as well have left his post as Messenger now. Here he stood, watching one of his brothers flog the angel that raised him for the crowd’s amusement. Michael would have expected 50 lashes at least, and Gabriel managed to steel himself through the first 25.

The roar of the crowd gave Gabriel some false hope that perhaps this could have been enough. That seeing the rebel bleed would satiate them. That perhaps Lucifer wouldn’t have to be exiled.

Then Lucifer’s eyes met his. The bloody angel’s brilliant blue eyes barely twitched under each lash, so Gabriel did the twitching. The Morning Star’s face contorted in pain, but his eyes hardly wavered. _Brother, you know what you must do. We all know. Please, just do it._

Upon the 49th lash, Gabriel couldn’t take it anymore. He raised a hand to call off the punishment, and there was silence. What would otherwise have been a very welcome silence was now anything but. They were vulnerable now, and he knew it.

Still, he slowly knelt next to his elder brother …. His once _beautiful_ brother, now sullied and soiled with blood and corruption. There was no more room to stall, but this was his last chance to talk some sense into his lover. He had to offer this last chance.

“What do you want, brother? Tell me.” His voice was hushed, and his Grace whispered more that the others could not hope to hear. _Once, I thought the chance to make you laugh was all I ever wanted._ He used the hem of his robes to wipe some blood from the rebel’s brow. Even like this, he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t see the most important angel to him lay there in that condition. Not when such horrors like The Cage were very real threats. “You’ve got to be careful, Lucifer. You know what Father told me to do, and they will not rest until you are nothing more than a bad memory.” _Even now, I wish that God had chosen another. Carrying out your sentence on His behalf is the last thing that I wanted._ His voice cracked, wishing beyond reasonable prayer that this didn’t have to happen. “You could be dead soon.”

Lucifer looked quietly up at him, tears in his eyes. Gabriel was dragging this out, and it was only going to end badly for both of them if he had his way. As much as the elder wanted to pull his lover into his embrace and whisper lies of how things would get better, it would only hurt both of them more. He knew what had to be done, and his prayers that Gabriel could be spared from this had evidently fallen on deaf ears. Had God already forsaken him? The thought was an icy knife in his Grace.

Gabriel cupped Lucifer’s cheek in his hand, desperation slipping through the cracks in his façade. “Why do you not speak when I hold your life in my hands?” He tried so hard to cling to the delusion that no one had to be hurt. He slowly straightened, standing as he came to the baffling realization that Lucifer had more than resigned himself to his fate. Tears were threatening to betray him once more. “How can you stay quiet? I don’t believe you understand-“

“You hold nothing in your hands, Gabriel,” the rebel finally hissed. “Any power you have comes to you from far beyond.” He tried to straighten himself, to maintain some illusion of pride, and settled for sitting back on his heels once more. He straightened his back, proudly folding his wings against his back, gritting his teeth through the pain. “Everything is fixed and you can’t change it.”

Gabriel knew this all too well, and he hated to admit it. Lucifer was right. This was the way it had to be from the beginning. The Seven had always known someone would betray them, but why did it have to be the Light Bringer?

That didn’t mean he was giving up that easily.

“Don’t be a fool, Lucifer! How can I help you?”

The masses bellowed again. Unintelligible now, but Gabriel knew all too well what they wanted. They were so eager to see the Morning Star’s head on a pike, lusting to see more of their brother’s blood spilt. He felt the other Seven’s eyes on him. He knew then, no matter what he did, he couldn’t win. If he reversed God’s decree, he was condemned. He would be cast out with Lucifer, and neither of them would be safe. If he spoke the judgement, he was damned. He’d never be able to look himself in the mirror again.

If he took pity on the brother that raised him, that taught him to fly and taught him to love his siblings, Michael would take a sickening pride in casting him out. Lucifer would fall either way, and he could do nothing to change it. His mind was set, though. Better to fall with him and go down fighting, than to turn his back on the one brother that treated him with love.

Just as he was about to speak, he saw a few faces watching everything in horror. Some angels had begun fighting back, to protect Lucifer, somehow, from any further danger. They had faith in Gabriel to do the right thing.

Then he saw the faces of fledglings. Fledglings that looked to him just as he looked to Lucifer. They looked scared and confused. They were too young to understand what was happening. If he fell, who would teach them? Michael certainly wouldn’t. Raphael couldn’t be bothered. Uriel couldn’t be trusted, and the others didn’t have the courage.

He started shaking, voice catching in his throat. For the first time in his memory, words failed him. He found himself unable to do the one job he was given. He managed to mumble a few words, but they were drowned in the rabble’s cacophonous shouting, and soon all he could hear was the crowd’s jeering. It rang in his ears until he was sure he could never unhear it.

All at once, before he could stop himself, his voice broke through the shouting. His Grace amplified the proclamation until every angel could _feel_ it in their very being. True silence fell in Heaven for the first time since before Creation.

 _“Don’t let me stop your great self-destruction.”_ His voice rang out in a way it rarely did. Even Lucifer was taken aback. Michael may have been too, if he hadn’t been basking in his own righteousness.

_“ROT if you want to, you misguided martyr!”_

All at once, the blood on his robes disappeared, his golden eyes blazing in false anger. Though, truthfully, he wasn’t sure how false the anger could have been.

 _“I wash my hands of your demolition. **DIE** if you want to … you … innocent puppet._”

Numb, the Messenger waved a hand for Michael to do what he had come here to do. To cast down the most beautiful angel Heaven had ever seen.

Lucifer had expected such a judgement, but the anger and tenacity in which it had been delivered shocked him to the core. Even as Michael dragged him to his feet and pulled him toward the portal, he stared at Gabriel. At his lover. Were those words spoken out of duty? Or hatred? He couldn’t tell. Had Father really turned Gabriel against him? Rage consumed him and he tried to lunge at Gabriel.

“BROTHER! How could you have come to hate me so? Is this what you wanted?” He fought against Michael, clawing his way toward Gabriel, but falling short. The thought planted itself in the back of his mind that Gabriel no longer wanted him. The moment it truly seeded itself, his Grace began to chill, the love and warmth he’d had for his brothers now gone. If he was to be the monster they warned about, he would give them reason to fear him.

Gabriel watched it all. The way Lucifer fought. The light dying from his eyes. The common throng filtering out to watch Lucifer’s expulsion from Paradise with gleeful abandon. But the hatred in his brother’s eyes was burned into his mind.

A few angels lingered to glare at him. He could have stopped this. They hated him for ordering Lucifer’s exile. They lingered, one spitting at his feet, before running off. They tried to fight to free their brother, and it was all Gabriel could do to stop himself from joining them. All he could do was watch.

Angels tried to catch Lucifer before he fell through the portal, and only managed to fall themselves. A few others leapt through to join them, and Gabriel knew why. They wanted no part of a Heaven that would cast out their light. And Gabriel was forced to watch. Soon enough, angels began to realize just how many they were losing, and mates scrambled to save their loved ones. There was bloodshed. Angels lost wings. They fell in fire, and Michael did nothing to stop it. He turned his back on them. A warning glance was passed Gabriel’s way, warning that if he tried to save them, far worse would be done to the Messenger.

The Strength of God was failing. The youngest Archangel felt shame. He didn’t deserve his own name. He owed it to his brothers to watch, but it was a knife in his very core to watch. The ones that had to watch as their mates descended began sobbing, and he could not comfort them. His secret liaison with the Morning Star was a secret, and now it could only ever be a secret. The very thought brought him to tears.

The youngest fledglings looked to him for answers, but he had none. What could he possibly tell them? That their family would never be the same? That they would only know a world of war? They would never remember Lucifer as he was.

Without a word, Gabriel stole to his chambers. If he was to be alone, it was going to be by choice. He couldn’t risk the lesser angels learning of his affections, and he was too afraid to face Michael after the show he’d put on.

 

Months went by, and Gabriel had locked himself away. He couldn’t bear to face his brothers. Though there were some that came to check on him to see if he was okay, he couldn’t bring himself to look anyone in the eye. He was convinced they hated him for what he had done. He didn’t blame them. He hated himself.

Lucifer had raised him to love. He had been loved his entire life, from the moment of his creation, and he could clearly identify when that love stopped. Father had grown quiet, the rest of the Seven refused to talk to him, the angels sang Michael’s praises and forgot about him, and through all of that, it was the look of betrayal in Lucifer’s eyes that really hit the final nail in the coffin.

Gabriel was alone, for the first time in his life.

He could, at least, take solace in knowing they hadn’t yet caught Lucifer to throw him into the Cage. That meant his brother was free and safe. For how long? He wasn’t sure. If Michael had his way, Lucifer would be dead within the hour. It was all he could do to try to throw him off of Lucifer’s trail.

More months went by, and Gabriel was starting to feel the absence of the Morning Star. It had pained him from the beginning, but now that pain had given way to the emptiest feeling he had ever known.

His brothers had noticed that Gabriel had stopped singing. He was the only angels remaining that could not find the strength to sing. It just didn’t feel right to sing anymore when he felt there was nothing worth singing about.

Even as far away from Heaven as Lucifer had fallen, he could tell. He had a mind to tempt Gabriel to join him. To promise he would never leave him again. Heaven would lose a valuable asset, and he would gain a mate and consort. They would never have to be apart again.

As furious as he had been, though, that Gabriel gave that order with the kind of passion he did, he felt no animosity toward his former lover. If he did, it was nothing compared to the hatred he felt for Michael.

He found that every day he spent away from Gabriel was a darker day than the last. His heart told him that it wasn’t the absence of the Divine Light that had caused his Grace to grow so cold. It was being away from the Messenger’s arms. If he had known his little brother would have left such an imprint on him, he would have fought harder to stay.

Tonight, he would fix that mistake. He would atone, as much as he was able. If he had to beg Gabriel’s forgiveness, he would, but he needed him far more than he knew he should.

He gathered his courage and hid away from the Fallen. They needed to be alone, if he was going to seduce Gabriel into joining him in Hell. It was a risk. Michael might catch on. He had faith in Gabriel to trust him and come alone. A thought lingered that perhaps Michael could have already brainwashed Gabriel against him, but he let his Grace shine brightly. It was a call to his mate, and he hoped it would be heard.

It was impossible for Gabriel not to hear it. A cry of loneliness from his mate could not go unheard. And so, he stole away from Heaven, appearing far too eagerly to see Lucifer. A doubt reared its ugly head, that Lucifer’s intentions were not pure, and his heart stopped in his chest. The mere thought hurt him to the core, but he had to hope. It was all he had left.

The second they saw each other, though, they froze. Gabriel grew more terrified that perhaps tis was meant to be a trap. Or that the other was testing him. That the one he loved would assume he was there to spy for Michael. He couldn’t give a damn about Michael, but Lucifer would have no reason to believe him.

Then he felt those familiar arms around him. It was dark, under a moonless sky, but he would know those arms anywhere. His own arms slid around the other, and it felt like he was home. His Grace reached out, and almost recoiled. His elder’s Grace had grown so cold, but it was like a balm to soothe the pain he felt, having been forced to watch his brothers tear so viciously into him.

“Can you ever forgive me?” The words came out as a whine. Once again, he felt like a fledgling in need of reassurance. His elder brother could give him guidance. He looked up to search for those blue eyes, but it was far too dark. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe it meant Lucifer couldn’t see the tears that had finally fallen. He couldn’t see the shame on his face.

He felt a hand caress his cheek, and he knew he was still loved.

“There is nothing to forgive. We did what we had to do.” There was no anger in the Adversary’s voice. Only comfort. It was like nothing had changed. Lucifer so desperately wanted Gabriel to fall with him. The absence of his Father’s light could be bearable, if he only had his mate with him. He commanded his own army now. He could protect Gabriel from Michael if he had to.

His cold lips crashed against the younger’s, an undeniable desperation hidden under the kiss. He could hear a soft squeak of surprise, but it gave way to a relieved hum. Hands snuck their way up his back, and the rebel tensed up. Despite the fear of rejection, he slowly unfurled both pairs of his wings, now charred and broken. He heard a gasp, and was braced for Gabriel to shy away from his touch, but then he felt the gentlest touch of fingers against the damaged feathers. He melted into the touch, forgetting his pain.

Gabriel’s three pairs of wings showed themselves and curled around his elder brother. There was a shared thought between them that this might all be a lie, but for the moment, neither of them cared.

Their Graces intermingled, curling around each other as their physical bodies intertwined. A fire ignited between them, and Lucifer knew warmth again. Lips pressed against each other, and soon enough they could feel bare skin on skin.

Gabriel’s golden feathers curled around the Fallen in an effort to shield the pair of them from reality. Before he knew it, he was on his back, Lucifer’s hands tracing every familiar line of his body. The way he was being touched made his mind malleable. If he had been told to fall, he gladly would.

But there were no words exchanged. There was no need for words. There never was. There was nothing they could say to each other that they didn’t already know.

Hands felt every inch of each body, gasps caught themselves in their throats. Gabriel opened himself to his lover and shuddered under the touch of his cold skin. The chill quickly turned to a comforting warmth as he felt the elder take control of his body. Sparks flew across his skin, pleasure igniting every nerve in his body. As far as he was concerned, this was exactly where his brother belonged.

His nails dug gently into the other’s back, clawing him closer. Lucifer pressed a needy kiss to his lips, reciprocating the need for closeness. The only sounds they made were that of pleasure as their bodies moved against each other. For a few moments, there was nothing else. No Heaven. No Hell. No angels or demons. Just each other. The way it should be.

Throughout the night, they couldn’t stop touching each other. Coupling after coupling, again and again, they found pleasure in each other’s arms. If either of them had the power, they would have made time stop, afraid to face the reality of their delicate situation. They, instead, buried themselves in each other, where they belonged.

After what felt like an eternity, Gabriel found sleep, curled up in his elder’s arms. Cold as the embrace was, he couldn’t help but feel at home. His mind had been made up. When he woke, he was going to swear to follow anywhere Lucifer led.

Lucifer, however, felt an unfortunate amount of shame. He was ashamed of what he was. The others called him the Seducer for his ability to make the angels abandon their posts, to follow him to Hell. He couldn’t look Gabriel in the eye after that thought.

He had seduced the most important angel in his existence. What if Gabriel _did_ swear to follow him? Would it have been of his own resolve? Or would it have been because of his seduction? For the first time, tears threatened to spill through the lids of his eyes. No, he couldn’t put Gabriel through that. The pain of the fall would scar him forever. The absence of the Light would change him.

He looked at the younger angel, asleep so soundly in his arms. How could he expect Gabriel to still love him after this? He had promised long ago that he would never hurt him. He didn’t plan to start now, even if it meant giving up the last ion of happiness he could ever hope to feel.

He pressed a gentle kiss to Gabriel’s forehead, brushing his hair out of his face.

“I love you, Gabriel. I always have, and I always will.” The Morning Star’s heart cracked, seeing the soft smile pull at his mate’s lips. He knew, in that moment, that Gabriel loved him too. It only made this harder, but he had to. For Gabriel’s sake, he had to. He had lost the will to go through with his plans. He just couldn’t put his lover through that much pain.

He whispered his goodbye and vanished. It might be easier for Gabriel to move on if he removed any chance of being tempted.

He vanished and turned himself in to Michael. He knew what fate awaited him, and he accepted it. It couldn’t possibly be worse than the risk of watching the angel he loved so dearly fall as he had.

It was far better to remove temptation. For both of them.

When Gabriel awoke, he reached for his lover, as he did the fateful morning when his world was shattered, and again found nothing. He jolted upright and urgently looked around for any sign that Lucifer was coming back, heart dropping to the pit of his stomach when he realized he was alone again.

He had determined – he was resolute – that he was going to follow Lucifer away from Heaven, and was now left with the bitter reality that he truly could never see his lover again. Perhaps that’s exactly what the Adversary wanted. Perhaps that’s what he wanted all along. One more act of revenge for passing the judgement. Perhaps he wasn’t loved after all.

Gabriel wept in the darkness, curled in on himself. He couldn’t bear to go home. Heaven wasn’t nearly the Paradise it was meant to be, without the Morning Star’s light. He couldn’t follow him into Hell, either. There was no way he could possibly know that he would be welcomed.

All that was left for him was Earth. The thought that he could grow to love the humans seemed unlikely to him. They were the reason his family had been torn apart. Lucifer was right. They were flawed. They were corrupt. They weren’t the perfect beings their Father wanted them to be. And now, because of them, his mate would be hunted like an animal.

One thing was certain. He could never go home. He could never face another angel. He was too weak to be of any use to any of them. He didn’t deserve his own name, and resolved never to use it again.

Despite everything, deep in his heart, he clung to the faintest glimmer of hope that he would see Lucifer again. He wanted, more than anything, to tamp out that hope. He knew if he let himself believe that kind of lie, he would live the rest of his life in pain. He couldn’t bear that thought.

He was snapped away from his thoughts when he felt something truly disturbing.

He could no longer feel Lucifer’s Grace. Not on Earth, and not in Heaven. That only meant one thing. Michael won. His Grace curled into itself in agony, screaming out in mourning.

No. No, secrets be damned. Michael be damned. With a rush of feathers, he set himself before his eldest brother, face contorted in rage.

Needless to say, Michael had not expected his sweet little brother to _snarl_ like that. Yet, there he was.

Gabriel let his sword drop from the sleeve of his robes, gripping it angrily. “You wanted this, didn’t you?” he growled. “He was our _brother_ , and you _wanted_ to see him locked up like that.”

Michael’s expression never changed, remaining every bit as unreadable as it had always been. He knew very well the dangers of the situation, but he never wavered. “No, Gabriel. I didn’t.” Even he wasn’t sure how true his words were. Gabriel was not totally wrong, and he knew it. “Brother, put the sword down. You cannot bring him back.”

Tears stung at Gabe’s eyes again, fist clenching tighter around the hilt of his blade. He knew very well he lacked the courage to fight, but he had to feel _something_. “He trusted you! He loved you! He loved us all enough, he was willing to fight for us, and you locked him away!” He barely realized he was brandishing his blade, moving closer and closer to Michael. “You’ve doomed Heaven to a life of servitude!”

It broke the Chief’s heart in unexpected ways, seeing Gabriel defend Lucifer so passionately. “Gabriel, if you follow him down this path, you’ll die.” He hoped maybe hearing that would get through to his little brother. There was no way he could have expected Gabriel to snap back.

“SO?” The tears threatened to fall again, but the Messenger had far too much dignity to let himself weep in front of his brother. “What happens if you decide _I_ can’t be trusted? Will you cast me out? Kill me? Lock me up?”

“Gabriel-“

“You would stop at nothing until the rest of Heaven is as broken as you are! I was right about you all along. You don’t care about any of us. You have some _demon_ inside you, and you can’t bring yourself to let any of us close enough to love you.” He brandished his blade again, wildly trying to fight back against his own emotions. “Lucifer always saw the good in you. He thought you cared. He loved you, and you betrayed him!”

The word stung. Just as Michael was about to retort, he felt himself get flung several hundred yards. It was a bitter reminder that Gabriel was just as much Archangel as himself. Maybe even stronger.

“Gabriel, please. We both knew it had to happen.” He tried to pick himself up, keeping his eyes trained on his younger brother. “I need you here. With Lucifer gone, and so many fallen, we need to rebuild. I can’t do it without you.”

“We both know you can’t do it _with_ me,” he hissed. “You think I need a chaperone. You think I’m weak. You think I screw up everything I try.” He slashed at Michael with purpose. He missed, but he felt such anger, he needed to make something bleed. “THIS WAS MY HOME,” he screamed, voice cracking under his emotion. “Look around you! Angels are dead, and more have fallen, because _you_ taught them hate!”

The younger grabbed Michael by the hair and forced him to look at an angel that had been trampled to death in the mad rush to break the Morning Star’s physical body. “These angels are dead because of you, Michael. Not because of Lucifer’s act of rebellion, but because you made them hate anything they didn’t understand.”

Michael lashed out, sending Gabe flying. He would tolerate many things, but he would not tolerate this kind of insubordination. “You forget your place, brother,” he snarled.

Gabriel glared at him. “Our brothers are dead, Michael. Innocent angels suffer now because of your stubbornness and _pride_.”

Michael let out an angry screech, losing his temper for the first time in Gabriel’s memory. He rushed at the Messenger, eyes blazing with raging fire. He was every bit the Archangel Gabriel had feared for so many years.

But Gabriel was not afraid. In the blink of an eye, he vanished. Duplicates of himself cropped up, and Michael could not differentiate between the illusions and the reality. When he felt a foot collide with his head, his eyes burned angrily. He grabbed a hold of the form that kicked him and stabbed his blade into its chest without hesitation.

The illusion died, and Michael could see it was a fake. He began attacking every duplicate he could get his hands on, hoping to find the real Gabriel. If Gabriel lived, Heaven was lost.

The Messenger watched, unseen, as his brother destroyed everything that looked like him. Lucifer had been wrong all along about their eldest brother. Michael was never meant to love. Gabriel felt a twinge of sympathy, but it wasn’t enough to make him want to stay. Sympathy was not compassion.

All at once, he vanished.

He had no idea where he could possibly hide, but he needed Lucifer to know. He needed his mate to know he was done with Heaven. He refused to go home. He refused to face the angels again. They were too far gone to Michael’s teachings of hate. He should have seen it coming, that no matter how hard he tried to teach love, it would never be enough.

When he reappeared, he found himself just outside of Lucifer’s Cage. It ripped his Grace apart to see his mate in such a state. He stepped closer to the bars, but the Adversary gave no indication that he knew he wasn’t alone. Brokenhearted, Gabriel extended his Grace to offer comfort, and was horrified to find that the barrier not only contained Lucifer, but prevented any contact from outside. A cruel shock was delivered the second he tried to make contact, and he recoiled in surprise.

Lucifer would never know Gabriel was right there.

All Lucifer knew now was pain. The Cage was a more horrifying punishment than he ever imagined it could be. He was forced to watch false images of Gabriel fighting in Heaven’s defense against the brothers that fell. He saw images of Gabriel seeking comfort in Michael’s arms. If only he knew the design of his prison was simply to torture him in ways only his own mind could conceive.

Gabriel could see Lucifer, and wished the same could be said for the other.

“I’m sorry, Luci,” he said, voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m so sorry. I should have been faster. I didn’t want you to fall alone.” Despite the pain it meant, he let his Grace shine bright, in hopes that Lucifer could feel it. “If I was stronger, maybe you wouldn’t be here.” He looked around. It was empty. Depressingly empty. For a place designed to hold the wicked, the worst of the torture was simply the absence of Light.

“The problem is me. I’m a walking disaster. I always was, without you.” He looked up, only barely able to see his brother’s face. There was no way he could know if Lucifer could hear him or not, but he needed to keep talking. “It’s getting harder to pretend everything’s fine. I mean, Heaven is going to fail without you. I can’t go home. Michael has lost his mind, and no-one’s heard anything from Father since you fell.”

He sighed, looking down at his feet. He slowly sank to the floor and leaned against the barrier of the Cage, gritting his teeth through the pain searing through his Grace. “My best wasn’t good enough. I guess it never really was. I wanted to be enough. You and Michael constantly tried to convince me that Father created me like this for a reason, but the fact of the matter is, I’m a coward. I was afraid to stand up to Michael when he cast you out, and I was afraid to fall with you when I had the chance.” His voice cracked a little. Part of him sincerely hoped Lucifer couldn’t hear him, but it didn’t stop him from going on.

“I wanted to protect you. I wanted to protect you like you protected me. I tried to keep you safe. Dad didn’t even have to tell me. I’ve just always felt like it was my responsibility. I had one job. ONE job, and I screwed it up. I blew it, and I’m sorry. I guess that’s what I do. I let down the people I love. I let Dad down, and now I guess I’m supposed to let you down too. How can I? How am I supposed to live with myself? What am I supposed to do?”

His voice grew thick with tears. He curled in on himself, wings sagging to the floor sadly.

“I wish I couldn’t feel anything Luci. Maybe if I was numb, I might be able to move on somewhere.” He buried his face in his hands, forcing his hair out of his eyes. “I need you to know … I wish I could take it all back. I’d move mountains. I’d walk through holy fire. I’d make time itself somehow bend. I’d hold the sky up myself if it meant I had time to figure out how to get you out of there.”

His voice began to crack, unable to stop himself from weeping.

“I’m so sorry.”

Lucifer, though he couldn’t see Gabriel, could hear everything that was being said. He closed his eyes, blinding himself to the tortures of his own mind, and clung to the knowledge that Gabriel was there. Though, now, there was a new Hell for him. Knowing his lover was hurting, and knowing there was nothing he could do to take the hurt away.

Years went past and Gabriel remained exactly where he was. He couldn’t abandon his mate again. Not after all the chaos that had happened.

During his self-inflicted exile to Hell, Gabriel practiced all of the magic Lucifer had taught him. Eventually, with enough training, he learned to use his magic to create illusions inside the Cage. It was the least he could do to make it up to the brother he’d let down. He had to atone for betraying the Morning Star like he had. Lucifer would argue, he knew, and tell him that he did what he had to do. It certainly didn’t feel like it.

Centuries passed and Gabriel watched as Hell raised up as a place to punish the humans responsible for Lucifer’s imprisonment. He had grown to hate them. He wanted to make Hell a place for the sinners to wallow in their own sins, under the guise of making it so angels could hardly set foot in this dismal place.

He watched as, day by day, his fallen brothers became twisted by the absence of the Divine Light. Brothers he had known as fledglings were now hardly angels anymore. He watched as Lilith, the First Woman, eventually descended to become the First Demon. Cain’s mark made the transition slow. Painful. Gabriel wanted to console the man that willingly walked into Hell to save his brother, but nothing he did would possibly help.

All he could do was watch, and that was torture enough.

The day Gabriel feared finally came, just as he’d grown comfortable in his practice. The angels had come to realize he wasn’t coming back to Heaven, and they’d begun to search for him. It wasn’t safe here. He cared little about his own safety and more for Lucifer’s. He had no idea what might be done with him if it was discovered that Gabriel had barely left his side. If he knew Michael, Michael might have convinced the others that Lucifer had seduced the Messenger away from Heaven. Gabriel knew it wasn’t untrue, but it didn’t make the threat of more harm to the Adversary any less real.

But angels learned how to navigate, and they kept searching for him.

It was time for him to leave, and it nearly broke him to admit it to himself.

He hid his own Grace, masking his presence as best he could. It took so much energy, it was impossible for him to offer one of his illusions to his captive brother. Instead, he leaned against the barrier and whined. He hated himself for this. It proved, once again, that he was weak. He was afraid.

“I’m sorry. I’ve held them off for as long as I can, but I can’t hide here anymore.” He didn’t even know if Lucifer could hear him. God, why couldn’t he know how much had even gotten through to his mate after all of these hundreds of years? “If the angels find me, they’ll drag me back to Heaven. I don’t want to go.”

He could feel the angels getting closer, and it set him more on edge than he ever wanted to be.

“I promise I’ll be back. We’ll see each other again. I swear.”

Before he left, he dared reach his Grace out to his mate again.

“I love you, Luci.”

Earth had become overpopulated with humans. Gabriel remembered a time he might have looked forward to seeing so many, but that time was long gone. He couldn’t help but blame them for his exile. If it wasn’t for the humans, he might still be in Heaven. He might still be with Lucifer. He might still be _home_.

The more he watched from the sidelines, the less he liked the humans.

He could deal with them when they were just stupid. Lilith, Eve, and Cain? They made mistakes, but there were only a few of them.

Now, there were thousands, if not millions. Father had already flooded the world to rid them of the evil and impure, and yet they were more wicked than ever. It made the Messenger sick to his stomach. They could not learn a lesson.

But what really churned his Grace into a knot, were the humans that claimed to be pious and virtuous. How dare they?

The one that unfortunately grabbed Gabriel’s attention was just a man. There was nothing special about him. As a matter of fact, he seemed to be one of the few humans that genuinely lived his life for the benefit of others.

That is, until the day he killed his brother. He didn’t just kill him. He maimed him. He maimed him for no particular reason, and proceeded to inherit his brother’s entire estate. Including his wife.

Something in the Archangel snapped. These humans … If they were so special – if they were so _perfect_ – that God would order the angels to love the more than they loved Him, why would he create them to be worse than the angels. He could have made them better, without the ability to kill. Without the need to turn on their own brothers.

And so it was that Gabriel killed his first human.

There was something extremely satisfying about it. He was still afraid to face his brothers again, but this felt justified. It felt like he was getting back at the angels for what they had done to the fallen. More than that, it felt like he was making a point to God.

He never expected his first kill to be human, and he certainly never expected it to feel _good_. He _liked_ this feeling. He wanted more of it.

For centuries, he would kill anyone that dared murder a sibling, and he’d never do so slowly. There were special places in Hell for people like them, but there was no reason why the torture wouldn’t start sooner. He was an angel of vengeance for all those betrayed by a loved one.

But even that started to lose its luster. The pleasure he took in killing soon faded, as he grew bored with the same old routine.

Then he met Chrysippus.

Chrysippus of Soli was a renowned philosopher of the Stoic school. He had devoted his life to studying logic, physics, the theory of knowledge, and ethics. He had a very deterministic view of life, but claimed he believed in personal freedom of will. Ethics, he taught, depended on understanding the nature of the universe, and he taught a therapy of extirpating the unruly passions which depress and crush the soul. He even initiated the success of Stoicism as one of the most influential philosophical movements for centuries in the Greek and Roman world.

Basically, Gabriel found him incredibly boring.

Chrysippus was the most boring person on Earth. It was like the man had no idea how to laugh.

As a matter of fact, that gave the angel an idea.

One night, as Chrysippus was having his dinner, Gabriel snapped his fingers. A donkey materialized outside and walked in. Nothing was said, even as the donkey began to eat the figs laying on the table. There was a few more moments of silence before the philosopher burst into laughter. He ordered a slave to fetch the donkey some wine so it could wash down the figs, and promptly died. Of laughter.

Unseen, Gabriel burst into laughter himself. This was _so_ much better than killing the old way, and he had sincerely missed being able to laugh. It was at the expense of those he killed, but it was the most genuine laughter he had managed since the Fall.

It wasn’t long before his body count rose again. One man died, suffocated by hats thrown in admiration of him. Another died when an eagle dropped a tortoise on his head. Yet another, obsessed with pedantry, was given letters with endless grammatical errors that he obsessed over editing until he eventually starved to death.

His body count rose so high that the pagans had started to mistake him for one of their own. They called him Loki. He wans’t sure who Loki was, and thus sought him out.

Upon meeting the trickster, he almost felt relieved.

“So, you’re that angel that’s been pretending to be one of us,” the fire god chuckled. “Not too bad.”

“High praise,” the angel chuckled back. “I was hoping I could talk you into a deal.”

“An angel? Striking a deal with a pagan? Oh, that’s rich.” Loki laughed heartily, only stopping when he realized how serious Gabriel was. “In Hel’s name what kind of deal could you possibly want from me?”

Gabriel took a deep breath, his own personal fear of rejection crawling its unwanted way back into the corner of his mind. “Let me be you.” There was a stunned silence from Loki, and Gabriel went on to explain. “I don’t want to have anything to do with the angels. I know what they did to the pagans, and I want no part of it. I just want to carve out my own little corner of the world, away from them.” When he was met with yet more silence, his stomach knotted up. “…Please?”

Loki wasn’t sure what to make of this offer. He had built up enough bad karma with Odin, he wasn’t sure how to get himself out. Now, this angel, offered him an escape. He could take his wife and his children, and he could quietly leave. He considered this for longer than made Gabriel comfortable before he finally spoke again.

“One condition,” he said, piercing green eyes trained on Gabriel’s gold. “If you take my name, do right by the others. I’ve been far less than fair to them, and they deserve a little better. It might save you a lot of trouble.” He fell silent for a moment more. “My wife needs me at home. My sons as well.”

It honestly surprised Gabriel, hearing a pagan hold his family in high enough regard that he would make a deal with an angel. He knew it was the only reason Loki would accept his offer. For that, he wanted to offer more. “I can keep you hidden. Your own universe for you and your family to stay. It’s the least I can do in return for your help.” He fell silent and dropped his gaze in shame. “I couldn’t keep my brother safe. Keeping your family safe might help me atone for my own sins.”

The gesture surprised Loki. It was more than he could have expected from a creature whose brothers wanted nothing more than the destruction of all pagans. In his surprise, he could only manage a hushed, “Please.”

With a nod, Gabriel managed a smile. Loki pulled the angel into a grateful hug, surprising the Messenger. The shorter of the two gently returned the embrace, choking back a sob. It was the first friendly touch he’d felt in nearly a millennia, and it was in the arms of a being his brothers despised. “Tell your wife that you have a friend in Heaven. If the stories about you are true, she may be glad to hear it.”

The trickster chuckled weakly. “The stories are all unfortunately true.” He took a moment to appraise Gabriel and smiled. “There is a fire about you. You will do well in my place.” The two broke from the embrace, and they extended hands to shake on their agreement. “Thank you, angel.”

Gabriel smiled weakly and shook the pagan’s hand. “My name is Gabriel.” It was the first time he’d spoken his own name since the fall, and it would be the last. “Thank _you_ , Loki. I promise, no one will ever find your family.”

Loki tightened his grip reassuringly on Gabriel’s, smiling a little easier. “And I promise, no one will find you. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

In a soft puff of smoke, the fire god was gone. With a brief glimmer of Grace, Gabriel worked his magic to ensure his new friend and his family would be safe from unfriendly eyes. He hoped, one day, to meet Loki’s family. Loki’s wife must be one of the most remarkable women in existence if she remained with a man like Loki.

The thought made him wish he had found a way to remain with his own lover.

He pushed the thought from his mind and set to work removing any trace of his former self.

He was going to become the trickster.

There was an incredible amount of fun to be had, in the trickster’s line of work. The new Loki found himself rather enjoying himself. Killing those that took pleasure in making those around them absolutely miserable was immensely satisfying, even if there was a sense of poetic irony about the whole ordeal.

The pagans were none the wiser, either. He’d managed to create an illusion so brilliant, it could fool those closest to the one whose place he took.

Better still, he needn’t keep a low profile. His own brothers couldn’t recognize him anymore. There were those he missed, but it was all for the best. He didn’t want to be dragged into Heaven’s business anymore.

For a millennia or two, he masqueraded as one of the most famous tricksters ever to walk the planet, and no one batted an eye. Hunters had come and gone, and none of them could best him.

He was in Springfield, Ohio, having immeasurable fun bringing tall tales to life, when two hunters waltzed into his life that he sincerely wished hadn’t.

He recognized them instantly as The Vessels. He ground his teeth and snarled behind his oblivious façade as janitor of the campus. It had to be _them_ , didn’t it? And they were getting _along_. No, if Michael and Lucifer had to be such mortal enemies, it just didn’t sit right for these two brothers to be so happy.

It was fun, of course, driving them apart. The elder, Michael’s vessel, cared so much about his car that he would kill anyone that breathed on it wrong. The younger, Lucifer’s vessel, much preferred research. It wasn’t hard to figure out how to tear them apart.

The longer he stayed to watch, however, the more they caught onto him. He kept his cool, as he often did with the hunters that came after him. They were already on edge with one another. They wouldn’t be able to fight him if their lives depended on it. And, as a matter of fact, they did.

He watched as the two had yet another argument and decided to go after Michael’s vessel. Dean, he supposed, was the man’s name. It didn’t matter much to him. If he could kill them, he would. It would set Michael’s apocalypse back quite a bit and that would be enough to piss him off.

They had their confrontation, just long enough for the trickster to see what they were capable of. Despite the arguing, they still had each other’s backs. It was more than he could say for _some_ angels, and that in itself made him want to kill them more. But now was not the time.

Not when they thought they’d killed him.

Still, he kept a close eye on them. Very close. Close enough to see Dean sacrifice himself for Sam. It made his blood boil. This what how brothers were _supposed_ to act. This is what Michael _should_ have done for Lucifer. And it was the humans that managed to do it.

The thought occurred to him that maybe this was what Father had led up to. These two brothers. He always knew, as soon as Lucifer fell, that it was going to end with those two. But they were the exception to prove the rule.

These brothers were what Michael and Lucifer were meant to be. This was what humanity led up to.

Over the years, he had started to grow attached to some of the humans. He focused so much time and energy on the humans that proved humanity’s flaws that he barely noticed the ones that truly were everything they were supposed to be. Good, compassionate, accepting, and virtuous. They were not without their flaws, but they started to show him what humans were meant to be capable of.

And it was the Winchesters that snapped him back to all those years ago, when he had high hopes for humanity.

He kept a _very_ close eye on the brothers. Close enough that he considered it a happy coincidence when they, once again, happened upon his hunting grounds.

It was only meant to be a one shot. Kill the pious reporter and move on. But the Winchesters couldn’t resist investigating the tourist attraction in town.

The trickster never bargained on the elder Winchester getting shot, but it was Sam’s reaction that gave him pause. The fear of losing his brother. The tears, upon realizing there was nothing he could do to save him.

It had to be a fluke. These were Michael and Lucifer’s vessels, he had to remind himself. The angels were already part of them, whether they knew it or not. This had to be a fluke. Sam shouldn’t care so much.

_Heat of the moment, telling me what your heart meant. The heat of the moment shone in your eyes…._

Sam woke up the next day to see his brother, alive and well.

The trickster watched carefully again. Day after day, he found new and more creative ways to kill Dean. There was some satisfaction in doing so. It felt like taking a jab at his own brother. And every day, there was a genuine fear of losing Dean.

Hundreds of Tuesdays went past, and his motives had switched from simply wanting to test Sam, to showing Sam what life would be like without his brother. He could see so much of Lucifer in the younger Winchester, he wanted him to understand the pain of being alone. As much as it pained him to do so.

And it _did_ pain him. Seeing Sam grow so numb began to hurt, and he decided to help break the cycle. All it took was changing his syrup from maple to strawberry. Upon hearing that Sam had noticed, it was time for him to wake up again.

Sam eventually cornered him, and he put on his most practiced smirk. To toy with him, if nothing else.

“Why are you doing this?” There was a tone of pain that the trickster could recognize. If he wasn’t so practiced keeping his own emotions a secret, he might have let something slip.

“You’re joking, right? You chuckleheads tried to kill me last time. Why _wouldn’t_ I do this?” The disapproving look from Dean was a look he was all too used to, and it didn’t bother him anymore. He kept his eyes on Sam, studying everything about him. He was jarred out of his study when Dean rudely interrupted.

“And Hasselback? What about him?”

The trickster’s golden eyes slowly shifted to look at Dean incredulously. “That putz?” It was all he could do to keep himself from rolling his eyes. “He didn’t believe in wormholes, so I dropped him in one!” He laughed, looking between the two of them. They weren’t laughing. He shook his head. These brothers just didn’t have a sense of humor. “Then you guys showed up. I had you made the second you hit town.”

“So this is fun for you? Killing Dean over and over again?” Sam was clearly angry, but there was a recognizable tone of confusion. He wanted to understand _why_.

“One: Yes. It is fun.” More fun than you would ever realize, Sammy. “Two? This is _so_ not about killing Dean. This joke? It’s on you.” A smirk tugged at his lip, feeling some sick sense of justice. “Watching your brother die every day? Forever?”

Through the anger, the trickster could see a little bit of his own brother. It was in his eyes. The color was all wrong, but the brightness was there. The sense of sadness, and the fear of losing his family. He barely registered that Sam called him a son of a bitch. Through nearly gritted teeth, he hissed, “How long will it take you to realize?” He wanted to get through to the Winchester. They were getting dangerously close to the end times, and he didn’t want them to be caught off guard. But there was no way of telling them without exposing his own identity. “ _You can’t save your brother. No matter what._ ” Just because he had to learn the hard way didn’t mean they had to.

“Oh yeah?” For a second, the trickster forgot this was a conversation. “I kill you, this ends now.”

He felt the tip of the stake press further into his neck and he held his hands up. For the briefest moment, he felt like his own brother was threatening to kill him. He had to remind himself that it was just his vessel. That hunk of wood wouldn’t do anything to him, but they didn’t have to know that. “Oh-oh, hey, whoa! I was just playing around! You can’t take a joke? Fine. You’re out of it. Tomorrow you’ll wake up and it’ll be Wednesday. I swear.”

“You’re lying.”

_You have no idea._

“If I am, you know where to find me. Having pancakes at the diner.”

The brothers exchanged glances, and it felt like the trickster’s worst nightmare. Behind his mask, his wings clenched in terror. He knew exactly what that look meant.

“No. Easier to just kill you now.”

“Sorry. Can’t have that.”

With a snap of his fingers, he sent Sam into Wednesday, keeping a close eye on him. In this timeline, Dean would die. Immediately. And there was no more waking up to the same day. Sam needed to understand. He needed _someone_ to understand his pain. The pain of losing a brother, and having to walk the earth with _no one_.

And that’s exactly what happened to Sam. For a year, Sam did nothing but obsess over finding the trickster. It consumed him until all he cared about was finding the monster that killed his brother. But the trickster never once imagined Sam would kill Bobby to summon him. That took him completely by surprise. He had hoped that the Winchester would have been able to maintain some sort of hold on humanity, but he was wrong.

Bobby’s form faded and the stake shot into the trickster’s grasp.

“You’re right. I was just screwing with you.” The glare he got from Sam almost gave him pause. “Pretty good, though, Sam. Smart. Let me tell ya, whoever said Dean was the dysfunctional one has never seen you with a sharp object in your hand!” He laughed, toying with the stake in his hand. “Holy Full Metal Jacket!”

Sam interrupted the laughter. “Bring him back.”

The trickster’s smile faded a little. “Who, Dean? Didn’t my girl send you the flowers?” He appraised Sam’s reaction for a moment before going on. “Dean’s dead. He ain’t comin’ back. His soul’s downstairs doin’ the hellfire rumba as we speak.”

“Just take us back to that Tuesda- WEDNESday – when it all started. Please. We won’t come after you, I swear.”

It broke his heart to hear all of that pain in Sam’s voice.

“You swear?”

“Yes.”

He considered this for a moment, pacing. “I don’t know …. Even if I could-“

“You can.”

“-True. But that don’t mean I should.” His smile disappeared completely, looking seriously at Sam. “Sam, there’s a lesson I’ve been trying to drill into that freakish Cro-Magnon head of yours.”

The painful shock on Sam’s face only tugged at the trickster’s Grace more. “Lesson? What lesson?”

For a split second, his voice caught in his throat. There was nothing he could do to stop a little bit of himself coming out through his words. “This obsession to save Dean? The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other? Nothing good comes from it.” _I know from experience_. “Just blood. And pain.” A touch of sadness in his eyes nearly betrayed his cold façade. “Dean’s your weakness. And the bad guys know it, too.” He grit his teeth for a moment, trying to steel himself. “It’s gonna be the death of you, Sam.” _It was the death of me. I should know._ “Sometimes, you just gotta let people go.” _Please. Before it kills you too._

“He’s my brother.”

The trickster sighed in exasperation to distance himself from his own emotions. Dammit, why couldn’t his own brothers be this loyal to each other? Sam was willing to risk everything to get his brother back. He wished to God he could do the same. Maybe God would listen to Sam, and the poor boy wouldn’t have to suffer this same kind of pain.

“Yup. And like it or not, this is what life’s going to be like without him.”

“Please. Just … please.” Now Sam was on the brink of tears. He’d come this far. He wasn’t sure if he could bear the idea of losing his brother now. Not when the possibility of getting him back was so real.

The trickster’s teeth ground in irritation and his golden eyes rolled. “I swear, it’s like talking to a brick wall.” There was no hope for this kid. If he didn’t get used to the idea that being alone was a very real possibility, he’d end up just as bad as himself, if not worse. “Okay, look. This all stopped being fun months ago. You’re Travis Bickle in a skirt, pal. I’m over it.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning that’s for me to know, and you to find out.”

_SNAP._

The trickster watched the Winchesters closely enough to see Dean die. Sam, predictably, sought comfort in the arms of a demon. Because why not? He had given up hope far too quickly that his brother would come back, even though he knew coming back to life was a very real possibility.

The demon led Sam down the wrong path, and the Seals were broken. The trickster was in limbo, somewhere between being thrilled that his brother was free from the Cage, and being terrified that Lucifer would no longer recognize him. He wasn’t sure what was worse. Seeing what damage Hell had done to the Morning Star, or his former lover turning his own blade on him.

He stayed hidden, and the more he saw the apocalypse start to unfold, the more he welcomed the idea. He wanted all of this to be over. The pain, the running away, the hiding, everything. He wanted it to end.

The only X-factor, of course, were the damn Winchesters. They refused to play the angels’ game. He couldn’t necessarily blame them, but dammit, why did they have to be so stubborn? It was just prolonging the inevitable.

Michael and Lucifer would find a way. One way or another, they’d fight, and nothing they did could possibly stop it.

Their stubbornness had gotten irritating enough that he, once again, decided to intervene.

The brothers were sent into a TV World, where their only hope was playing along with the game. He stepped in long enough to tell them the rules, but Dean didn’t seem too happy about it. The second he made himself known, the human grabbed his collar and pinned him to the wall. What was it about these Winchesters that made them love throwing people around like this?

When Sam said they wanted to talk to him, he sneered. No. This was going to be another attempt to keep the world from ending, wasn’t it?

“Hm. Let me guess. You muttonheads broke the world, and you want me to sweep up your mess.”

“Just five minutes. Hear us out.”

That was enough. He countered and told them if they could survive 24 hours, he’d talk. There was another lesson he wanted to drill into their thick skulls, and he’d be damned if he let them distract him from it.

They were going to play their parts, if he had to kill them to see it happen.

He hadn’t counted on Castiel interfering, but he had hidden from angels long enough to know how to get rid of them if he had to. The important thing was, Castiel hadn’t _seen_ him yet. Nothing else made a difference.

But then Castiel suggested that the trickster might not be a trickster after all. Castiel was always smart. He was one of the smart ones. One of the few he had such high hopes for. Castiel was one of the reasons he almost wished he’d stayed in Heaven.

Before the angel could say another word, he was thrown back against a wall, his mouth duct taped shut. The trickster pranced in through the door to the set, wearing his most obnoxious grin. He looked at his little brother all too happily. “Hi, Castiel!”

The Winchesters looked shocked. Well, at least that meant they hadn’t caught onto him just yet. With a gesture, Castiel was gone.

“You know him?”

“Where did you send him?”

The trickster smirked at them. “Relax. He’ll live.” A pause. “Maybe.” Well, the laugh track seemed to think he was funny.

“Alright, you know what? I am _done_ with the monkey dance, okay? We get it.” And here the trickster thought Dean was the one with a sense of humor.

“Yeah? Get what, hotshot?”

“Playing our roles, right? That’s your game?”

The trickster smirked. These bastards had no idea. “That’s half the game.”

Sam stared in confusion for a moment. “What’s the other half?”

“Play your roles …. Out there.” He gestured to the audience. These kids were incredibly stupid, for hunters that managed to “beat” him twice now.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you know.” He gestured wildly, using his best announcer voice to make his point. “Sam, starting as Lucifer. Dean, starring as Michael.” A smirk. “Your celebrity death match! Play. Your. Roles.”

Sam had that same puppy eyed look on his face that almost broke the trickster’s heart. “You want us to say yes to those sons of bitches?”

 _First of all, how dare you._ “Hells yeah. Let’s light this candle!”

“We do that, the world will end!”

 _The sooner the better, bucko._ “Yeah? And whose fault is that? Who popped Lucifer out of the box? Hm?” He looked between the brothers, quietly grinding his teeth when they said nothing. “Look, it’s started. _You_ started it. It can’t be stopped, so let’s get it over with.”

Sam glared at him, and it wasn’t difficult for the trickster to brush it off.

“Heaven of Hell? Which side are you on?”

His gaze shifted lazily to Dean, an incredulous look on his face. “I’m not on either side.”

“Yeah, right.” Dean looked so fucking pleased with himself for “figuring it out” that the trickster wanted to slap that stupid look right off of his face. “You’re grabbing ankle for Michael or Lucifer. Which one is it?”

 _Oh, you don’t want to play that game with me, boy._ His smile was a lot more forced now, a quiet rage burning in his eyes. He took two steps forward. He wouldn’t give a warning for Dean to back down. “You listen to me, you arrogant dick. I don’t work for either of those S.O.Bs. Believe me.”

The elder Winchester smirked, chuckling in his own arrogant way. “Oh, you’re somebody’s bitch.”

The trickster snapped. With no warning, his smile disappeared, and the next second saw Dean slammed into the wall. If the Winchesters needed a reminder that he was dangerous, this was it. “Don’t you ever … EVER … presume to know what I am.” He snarled dangerously, and all at once, he was unlike anything they had seen before. “Now listen very closely. Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna suck it up, accept your responsibilities, and play the roles that _destiny_ has chosen for you.”

“And if we don’t?”

And just like that, the trickster’s grin was back. A lot more dangerous than before, but was back nonetheless. He was out of patience. “Then you’ll stay here in TV Land. Forever. Three hundred channels and … nothing’s on.”

He snapped his fingers, and just like that, they were back in the game.

He watched them stumble through, hoping every step would bring them closer to accepting their fate. He had to, so it didn’t seem fair that they were given a choice he was never offered. When Dean finally shouted “Uncle!” he appeared.

“Wow, Sam! Look at the rims on you!” It was a childish satisfaction, but seeing Sam stuck as a car brought a smile to his face. “Okay, boys. Ready to go quietly?”

“Whoa, no one’s going anywhere until Sam has opposable thumbs!”

“What’s the difference? Satan’s going to ride his ass one way or another.” He grinned, smile disappearing again when he realized his joke wasn’t working on them. He rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers. When Sam stepped out of the car, he looked at Dean. “Happy?”

“Tell me one thing. Why didn’t the stake kill you?”

Well, that wasn’t hard. “I _am_ the trickster.” Even if the stake _couldn’t_ kill him, he could truthfully say that any time they had stabbed him, it wasn’t really him. It wasn’t his first rodeo, after all.

“Or maybe you’re not.” Dean fought a smirk, and it made the trickster clench. He didn’t like where this was going. He watched Sam hold up a flaming lighter, eyes following it as it dropped to the ground. When a ring of fire sprang up around him, he knew what was happening. “Maybe you’ve always been an angel.”

No, there had to still be a way to salvage this.

He laughed, looking between the two of them, like they couldn’t possibly be serious. “A what? Somebody slip a mickey in your power shake, kid?”

Michael’s Sword barely blinked. He was so sure of himself, and it made the trickster’s stomach knot up. “I’ll tell you what. You just jump out of the holy fire, and we’ll call it our mistake.”

The trickster managed another laugh, but it slowly died. He was caught. In the blink of an eye, they were out of the field and into the warehouse again. His smile was gone entirely now. He was left, clapping slowly. “Well played, boys. Well played.” A thought occurred to him. “Where’d you get the holy oil?” It wasn’t like they could get it at the dollar store.

“Well, you might say we pulled it out of Sam’s ass.” Dean grinned, and the trickster wanted to laugh, but it just wasn’t the time. He was out of laughter. He just didn’t have the energy anymore.

All of these years, he had never once slipped up. He managed to keep himself under the radar from both sides, and it was two _humans_ that figured him out. “Where’d I screw up?”

“You didn’t.” At least Sam had the heart enough to ease his worries. “Nobody gets the jump on Cas like you did.”

Then Dean spoke up, and for once, he didn’t want to slap him. “Mostly, it was the way you talked about Armageddon.”

“Meaning?”

Dean managed a smile, and there was a small amount of comfort the trickster could find in it. “Well, call it personal experience, but nobody gets that angry unless they’re talking about their own family.” The trickster couldn’t argue.

“So, which one are you?” Golden eyes snapped to Sam as soon as the taller Winchester spoke. “Grumpy, Sneezy, or Douchey?”

It _hurt_ , hearing that tone from Sam. All of the laughter was gone from his face now. All that was left was the cold reality that these two really _were_ his brothers. And now, he had to use the name he swore to himself he would never use again. With a deep breath, he breathed, “Gabriel, okay? They call me Gabriel.”

There was a glimmer of recognition that nearly warmed the angel’s heart, but he knew he was looking in the wrong place for it. Sam looked confused, impressed, and bewildered all at the same time. “Gabriel? The Archangel?”

“Guilty.”

“Okay, Gabriel,” Dean interrupted, “How does an Archangel become a trickster?”

He managed a weak chuckle. There was no point in keeping secrets now. The world was going to end either way, and it wasn’t like he was going to be able to leave this damn warehouse from inside the ring of fire. “My own private witness protection.” He looked between them, his facial muscles trying to attempt something close to a smile, but he just didn’t have it in him anymore. “I skipped out of Heaven, had a face transplant … carved out my own little corner of the world, till you two screwed it all up.”

Dean spoke up again, seemingly hellbent on pushing every single one of Gabriel’s buttons. “What did Daddy say when you ran off and joined the pagans?”

Gabriel’s lips curled into a sneer. “Daddy doesn’t say anything about anything.” He should know. He was the Messenger. If anyone would hear from God, it would be him. But no. Father was long gone.

Sam looked more curious than anything. “Then what happened? Why’d you ditch?”

Gabriel would have been more than happy to answer, to give them some context, but his loudmouth brother just _had_ to throw his two cents where they weren’t wanted.

“Do you blame him? I mean his brothers are heavyweight douchenozzles.”

If it hadn’t been for the holy fire, Gabriel would have snapped Dean’s neck with his bare hands for saying that. Instead, he had to settle for words. “Shut your cakehole. You don’t know anything about my family.” It was all he could do to stem the tears from flowing. “I love my father, my brothers. Love them. But watching them turn on each other?” All at once, he remembered the Fall. He remembered it like it happened just this morning. “Tear at each other’s throats?” He watched his own mindscape, seeing visions of his brothers slowly dying, one by one. “I COULDN’T BEAR IT! Okay? So I left. And now, it’s happening all over again.”

“Then help us stop it.” Gabriel truly envied Sam’s talent of maintaining hope.

But there was no more hope left in his heart. “It can’t be stopped.”

“You wanna see the end of the world?”

All of a sudden, it wasn’t the Winchesters he was talking to anymore. It was his brothers. It was all he could see. Lucifer and Michael snarling at him. “I WANT IT TO BE OVER. I have to sit back and watch my own brothers kill each other, thanks to you two!” Michael, Lucifer, Dean, Sam. It didn’t matter to him anymore. “Heaven, Hell, _I don’t care who wins._ I just … want it … to be _over_.”

“It doesn’t have to be like that,” the younger said. “There has to be some way to … to pull the plug.”

Gabriel laughed. “You do _not_ know my family.” He looked up at them again. “What you guys call the apocalypse, I used to call Sunday dinner.” It was starting to sink in just how real all of this was. He had pretended for thousands of years now that his brothers and his family was perfect. It wasn’t until now that he realized how much resentment he felt. “That’s why there’s no stopping this, because this isn’t about a war. It’s about two brothers, who loved each other, and betrayed each other.” A lump caught in his throat. They wouldn’t know he wasn’t talking about _Michael_ and Lucifer. “You think you’d be able to relate.”

“What are you talking about?” Sam was so adorably lost, Gabriel couldn’t help but quieten down again when answering him.

“You sorry sons of bitches. Why do you think you two are the vessels? Think about it.” He fought against the biting tone that threatened to snarl its way through his nose. “Michael, the big brother, loyal to an absent father, and Lucifer. The little brother, rebellious of Daddy’s plan.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “You were born to this, boys. It’s your destiny.” _Believe me, I know why you don’t want this. I don’t want it either._ ”It was always you. As it is in Heaven, so it must be on Earth.” There was a pained laughter that snuck its way through his words, though he found no humor in them. “One brother _has_ to kill the other.”

Dean was taken aback. Rightly so, if Gabriel’s opinion counted for anything. “What the hell are you saying?”

He sighed, quieting his tone even more. He had to remind himself that these two were essentially children, and they needed things explained to them. “Why do you think I’ve always taken such an interest in you? Because from the moment Dad flipped on the lights around here, we all knew it was gonna end with you.” He hated admitting it. “Always.”

The brothers looked at each other, and seemed resolute. “No, that’s not going to happen.”

The hope was lost on the Messenger. He had gone on too long without hope for these two to chuck their optimism at him. “I’m sorry, but it is.” He hated himself so much for saying it out loud. Truthfully, he didn’t want to die. He didn’t want Lucifer to die. Hell, even after everything, he didn’t want Michael to die. He wanted his family back, but he knew that was never going to happen. He was going to die alone. So how dare these two humans try to convince him otherwise?

“Guys, I wish this _were_ a TV show. Easy answers, endings wrapped up in a bow ….” Another lump caught in his throat, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on him. “…. But this is real, and it’s gonna end bloody for all of us… That’s just how it’s gotta be.”

An uncomfortable silence fell. All three of them knew Gabriel was right, but none of them wanted to admit it. Not even Gabriel. “So. Boys. Now what? We stare at each other for the rest of eternity?”

“Well, first of all, you’re gonna bring Cas back from wherever you stashed him.” Dean barked his order like Gabriel would follow it unquestioningly. The Archangel gave him a look.

“Oh am I?” At this point, he really wasn’t sure he cared what they did or thought. It could hardly be worse than what he did to himself these days.

“Yeah. Or we’re going to dunk you in some holy oil and deep fry ourselves an Archangel.” Dean smirked that disgusting smirk. Gabriel snapped his fingers in defeat and Castiel appeared. Dean showed much more interested in checking on his friend than he had showed this entire time in capturing the Messenger of God.

Castiel brushed him aside brusquely, in favor of setting his eyes on the brother that had abandoned him. “Hello, Gabriel.”

Gabriel plastered an exaggerated smile on his face, as though trying to taunt his younger brother. “Hey, bro. How’s the search for Daddy going?” He let the silence settle for a moment, before snarling, “Let me guess. Awful.”

He expected the glare from Castiel. Michael had gotten to him. There was such little hope left that the angels could learn compassion, that he could expect nothing less. Any trace of his presence in Heaven was gone, and this was the proof.

Dean glanced between the two brothers and looked at his own. “Okay, we’re out of here. Come on Sam.” He turned and started to walk away.

Gabriel felt a sudden panic. “Uh … Okay, guys?” No one answered. Sam turned his back on him and followed his brother. “So … so what? Huh?” He looked urgently at Castiel. Surely his own brother wouldn’t leave him here like this? Michael hadn’t erased _that_ much compassion, had he? But Castiel turned his back, too. “You’re just gonna …. You’re gonna leave me here forever?”

Dean stopped short at the door and looked at him, with eyes that could only belong to an angry older brother. Gabriel steeled himself, but his wings tensed up. It was uncanny, how much Dean reminded him of Michael.

“No. We’re not.” Dean nearly snarled at the Archangel. “’Cause we don’t screw with people the way you do. And for the record? This isn’t about some prize fight between your brothers or some destiny that can’t be stopped. This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family.” He pulled the fire alarm and the sprinklers overhead rained down water.

Gabriel knew then, Dean was right. He had always been afraid. Always. Ever since he was created. He couldn’t stand the risk of his brothers being angry with him. His brothers had more reason now than ever to hate him. He _was_ afraid. His heart sank into his chest. Even as the holy fire extinguished around him, he couldn’t bring himself to move.

Dean was right.

Gabriel had to find some way to make up for everything. He had spent so long hiding, he had nearly forgotten how seriously things depended on him. He was an Archangel, for Father’s sake. He had to do _something_. If he could stop the whole apocalypse from happening, there might be a chance that his brothers could come to some sort of peace. It would never be the same, and he would be a fool to try to convince himself otherwise.

An opportunity presented itself when the Winchesters got themselves lost at a hotel in the middle of nowhere.

He still had pagan ties, and he knew well where they were meeting to discuss their involvement in Armageddon. He was already on his way to talk them into staying on the sidelines when he felt two familiar presences in their midst. Oh no. The Winchesters.

Then and there, he knew what the pagans were planning. Either they were going to kill Sam and Dean, or they were going to use them as bait to get Michael and Lucifer there. Either way, blood was going to be shed, and he wasn’t sure if he could look himself in the mirror if he let that happen on his watch.

He waltzed in and, no surprise, no one was happy to see him.

He tried, desperately, to convince the pagans to sit this out. The angels would have their battle, and the pagans could rebuild. It’d be just like it was before the angels showed up. Especially Kali. She was the only other person, besides Lucifer, that ever made him feel welcome in her arms. He loved her for that. He couldn’t let her die. He _couldn’t_.

No one listened to him, and he wasn’t sure what he expected. He was Loki, after all. God of lies. He was a trickster. Why should he have anyone’s best interests in mind? Of all times he wanted to be noticed, to be taken seriously, this was the one time it mattered, and it was the one time no one listened.

_I'm not a spy. I'm a runaway. I'm trying to save you. I know my brother, Kali. He should scare the living crap out of you. You can't beat him. I've skipped ahead, seen how this story ends--_

When Kali learned who he was and tried to kill him, he was devastated. It was the Fall all over again. The fire goddess saw a chance to protect herself, and she took it, at the cost of his life.

He couldn’t let himself truly die, though. Not when Sam and Dean were still in serious danger of being found by Michael and Lucifer.

He watched as Dean rushed some of the humans out of the hotel. Ever the hero, trying to save as many people as he can, when he knew very well he would die. He rolled down the window of the Impala and tried to get Dean’s attention.

“Psst! Dean!” He ducked down, very conscious of the fact that anyone could be watching. “Don’t look at me! Act natural. Get in.”

Dean grumbled under his breath and slid into the driver’s seat, leaning back against the leather to listen to, what he was sure, was going to be the biggest load of horseshit he’d ever heard. “Man, there is _nothing_ natural about this at all. I thought you were dead.”

Gabriel smirked and scoffed all at the same time. “You think I’d give Kali my real sword? That thing can kill me!” He smiled, trying to harken back to when he would use humor to make light of a situation. He desperately needed that now.

Dean glanced back at him, brows knitting together. “Then what do they have in there?”

“A fake!” Gabriel was all too proud of himself. “Made it out of a can of diet orange Slice. So, uh, go snag our blood, would ya?”

Dean gave him a look. That same, disapproving older brother look Gabriel remembered from the warehouse. “What?”

“I heard you in there. Kali likes you.” He couldn’t even pretend there wasn’t a hint of jealousy in his voice. “You can get close. Lift the plasma, then we vamoose.” He offered a smile that he hoped would be reassuring.

Dean wasn’t convinced. “No. Hand over the real blade.” He shifted to look at the cowardly angel in the back seat. “Better yet, why don’t you sack up and help us take down Lucifer?”

Gabriel’s heart sank right back into the pit of his stomach. Dean had absolutely no idea what he was asking. His expression was blank, but there was an unmistakable pain in his eyes. “You can’t be serious?”

“Deadly.”

Gabriel didn’t mean to get defensive. He couldn’t help the words that spewed from his mouth. “Since when are you butt buddies with a bunch of monsters? That’s all they are to you, aren’t they?” _That’s all I was to you. Why should they be different?_

Dean was getting more and more impatient. “Alright, you know, Sam was right. It’s nuts, but it’s the best idea I’ve heard, so unless you have a better one?”

Gabriel bit back a snarl. “Well, good luck with that. Me? I’m blowing Jonestown. Those lemmings wanna run off a cliff, that’s their business.”

Dean just gave him a look. “I see right through you, you know that? The smart-ass shell, the whole “I could give a crap” thing? Believe me, it takes one to know one.”

Gabriel wasn’t convinced. He just looked at the Winchester. He couldn’t possibly know what was going through his head. “That so?”

“Yes. And maybe those freaks in there aren’t your blood, but they _are_ your family.”

 _Low blow._ “They just stabbed me in the friggin’ heart!”

“Maybe, but you still give a crap about ‘em, don’t you?”

“Dean-“

“Now they’re gonna die in there, without you.”

A silence fell. Gabriel knew what Dean was asking him to do, and he couldn’t.

“…. I can’t kill my brother.”

Dean glared at him. “Can’t? Or won’t?” When Gabriel didn’t answer, he opened the door and started to get out of the car. “That’s what I thought.”

Gabriel was left alone. There was no way out of this now. He was here because he loved his family. Dean was right about that much. The pagans were his family, and he didn’t want them to die. But the mere thought of seeing Lucifer, his lover that had haunted his dreams for thousands of years, terrified him. He _couldn’t_ kill his brother. Even if he wanted to.

But the thought of running away again made him sick.

His feathers bristled he second he felt Grace nearby. No. Please no. Not like this.

Lucifer was here, and he felt nothing like the Morning Star he’d known and loved. For a moment, there was peace. He could hear Lucifer and Mercury speaking. Perhaps there was hope that this night would not see bloodshed.

In an instant, though, everything went wrong. His blood curdled. One by one, he _felt_ the pagans dying. Worse than that, he felt his brother’s _joy_ in slaughtering the pagans. Hell had corrupted the once beautiful angel in ways that the Messenger feared he could never heal.

If that was what this was, he wasn’t sure what he had to lose anymore. His brother may as well be gone. The Morning Star was no more. All that remained was the Satan Michael had warned about.

With heaviness in his heart, he spread his wings and disappeared, reappearing long enough to shove a DVD into the Winchesters’ grasp. They would need it if he didn’t make it out of here alive. It was a very real, and very welcome possibility.

He glanced up and saw Lucifer rear up to stop Kali’s head in, and he decided enough was enough. He knocked the devil back with a powerful gust of Grace. No one saw him stand up, but there he was. He was resolute, and there was no going back now.

“Luci?” His blade dropped from his sleeve into his hand. “I’m home.”

Lucifer, focused entirely on killing the pagan woman, barely registered that Gabriel was there. He stalked toward Kali, only glancing up to see his little brother’s face. He stopped dead. For the first time since he escaped the Cage, he saw his lover. His mate. His Grace was hardly recognizable anymore, but it was him. His mate had joined the pagans? This didn’t make sense to him. The angels had always been against pagans, hadn’t they?

He watched, dumbly, as Gabriel had the Winchesters escort the pagan woman out. None of this made sense to him. His best guess was that his little brother was spying for Michael. It was all that made sense to him. It was the only possible thing, in his mind.

“Over a girl. Gabriel, really?” His lips curled back in a sneer. “I knew you were slumming, but … I hope you didn’t catch anything.”

The words broke the Archangel’s heart. He plastered on a practiced smile and took a deep breath. “Lucifer, you’re my brother. And I love you …. But you are a _great big bag of dicks._ ”

Lucifer was shocked. His mate, of all people? He never dreamed those words would come out of his mouth. Then again, neither of them could have ever imagined they’d be standing here like this. Especially not with their history.

“… What did you just say to me?”

Gabriel couldn’t help it. Thousands of years of anger and pain unleashed itself all at once. It was all he could do to choke back the tears. “Look at yourself!” There was no stopping it now “BOO HOO! Daddy was mean to me, so I’m gonna smash up all his toys!”

“Watch your tone.” There was a little anger, but far more hurt. Of anyone, he would have hoped that Gabriel would understand. He was there. He saw everything. He didn’t understand.

“Play the victim all you want. But you and me? We know the truth.” Gabriel’s voice dropped, voice growing hoarse through choked back tears. “Dad loved you best. More than Michael… More than me…” Only Lucifer could possibly notice the hurt in his eyes. “Then he brought the new baby home, and you couldn’t handle it. So this is all just one big temper tantrum.” He gripped his blade a little tighter. This was it. This was going to be the end. “Time to grow up.”

There was a moment of silence as Lucifer let everything sink in. The only thing that made sense was- “Gabriel, if you’re doing this for Michael…”

“ _Screw him._ ” He held his blade up defensively, though there was no indication he would ever actually attack. “If he were standing here, I’d shiv his ass too.”

Lucifer was shocked. Honestly shocked. Gabriel _left_? “You disloyal-“

“Oh, I’m loyal. To them.”

The Morning Star was taken aback. “Who? These …. So called gods?” He wanted to understand. He wanted to know why his mate had strayed so far. He knew well the effect Hell had on him, but he so desperately wanted to understand. This was the closest he had come to seeing his mate in thousands of years. He wanted _needed_ to understand.

“To people, Lucifer. _People._ ” Gabriel needed Lucifer to understand every bit as much as Lucifer _wanted_ to understand.

“So … You’re willing to die? For a pile of cockroaches? Why?”

The words came hard to Gabriel. “Because Dad was right.” Thousands of years of trying to deny this exact statement, and here he was. “They _are_ better than us.”

Lucifer’s temper flared, despite his best efforts. “They are _broken_. _Flawed. ABORTIONS._ ”

“Damn right, they’re flawed.” He took a deep breath, steadying himself against the tears that threatened to spill. “But a lot of them try. To do better. To _forgive_.” His lips tugged back in a half hearted smirk. “And you should see the Spearmint Rhino.” There were no more smiles left for him in this world. Not if the Lucifer that stood before him was really what his mate had become. That, above all else, was what made this decision so easy. “I’ve been riding the pine a long time. But I’m in the game now. And I’m not on your side, or Michael’s. I’m on theirs.”

Realization washed over Lucifer’s face. His little brother was foolish, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew what the little angel was planning, and it … hurt. For the first time in far too long, he felt _sad_. There was no anger. There was only the painful realization that there was no escaping this. His voice trembled. “Brother …” The word was bitter on his tongue. After everything, he was _afraid_ to try to remind Gabriel of the life they had together. “… Don’t make me do this.”

Gabriel couldn’t even risk a smile. He was scared to death that his smiles would be lost on his mate anymore. The merest thought that there was no more love left for him only served to make this decision easier.

He managed a quirk of the eyebrow, and a gentle, “No one makes us do anything.”

Lucifer fell so his brothers could have free will Gabriel seemed to be the only one that respected that wish. He earned it, through blood and pain and tears. It was a quiet acknowledgment that Gabriel never forgot. Not one day had gone by that he didn’t think of Lucifer in the best light. Lucifer _was_ his light, through everything.

Even now.

The elder of the two felt a sudden chill. He knew the one in front of him wasn’t real. He knew what was about to happen. He froze up. It couldn’t be this way. It _shouldn’t_ be this way. He didn’t want any of this. He never did.

“I know you think you’re doing the right thing, Gabriel…. But I know where your heart truly lies.”

In one motion, he swung around and caught Gabriel’s arm, burying his little brother’s blade deep between his ribs.

“Here.” His brother was trying to kill him. His _mate_ was trying to kill him. Even all of the tortures of the Cage, he never would have imagined it coming to this. “Amateur hocus pocus. Don’t forget, you learned all your tricks from me, little brother.”

For a moment, time between them stopped. Gabriel’s Grace was fading. Fast. He couldn’t speak. He wasn’t sure what he would even say. There was a heartbreaking look exchanged between them. For a split second, each knew the other didn’t want this. Lucifer’s arm came up to pull his little brother into his arms.

For the first time in far too long, Gabriel felt safe. Comfortable. He was where he belonged. He never should have left these arms. With his last bit of energy, he looked up into Lucifer’s eyes. The first thing he ever saw when he came into this world.

And the last.

With a twist of the blade, Lucifer watched in horror as the golden eyes he loved so dearly faded. He watched Gabriel’s Grace explode out and burn away. And all he could do was watch, as his lifeless body fell to the floor. His eyes were so focused on Gabriel’s body, he chose to ignore the remains of the Archangel’s wings tarnishing the floor. He wanted so badly for this all to be a nightmare.

Tears pricked at his eyes. His brother was gone. This wasn’t a trick. There was no “Tada” moment. Gabriel was dead, and he was the one that took his life.

He didn’t want to do this anymore. Gabriel was the last thing he had left. The one thing he had left to fight for, and it was gone.

Finally alone, he let himself shed a tear. _I love you, Gabe._

There had been a bright flash of light. Gabriel knew he was dead. His own mate killed him, and he was okay with it. It was the only way out. It was the only way for it all to be over. This was all he had wanted. For the pain to be over.

Then again, how was he able to process this? Was this what happened when angels died?

He looked down and saw his own two hands. Well, not his, but his vessel’s. The one he had come to know as his own.

He had known, walking into that hotel, that he would not make it out alive. He knew, and yet, he wished he hadn’t. The look in his mate’s eyes in those final moments… was it love? Had there been hope that he and Lucifer could have run away from it all? That they could have lived out their existences away from the angels, away from the demons, away from the humans, away from … everything?

No. No, it was impossible. It had to be.

Still…. It was all he had wanted, since the moment Lucifer crawled into his nest.

And now it was impossible.

His consciousness remained, peering down to watch.

Lucifer got what he wanted. He got Sam to say yes. Michael even got his own vessel. Everything was going the way it had to be. In a rush of feathers, he heard the eldest brother join him in the cemetery.

Even up until the end, Lucifer begged Michael not to fight. He couldn’t say it out loud, but he’d already had to kill his mate. He couldn’t bear to kill another angel. There was no victory that was worth living a life without Gabriel.

Before he knew it, Dean Winchester wandered in. Lucifer could hear Sam screaming in the back of his head. Everything was a blur. He let his emotions get the best of him. His fist came down on the Winchester’s face, and with every punch, Sam screamed louder, begging him to stop. Leave his brother alone.

And through it all, Dean promised Sam that he was there. That he was safe.

For a moment, he saw Dean as Gabriel. He was making Sam do precisely what he was made to do. He’d lost the most important brother in his life. He couldn’t do that twice in one life time.

He took a step back and let Sam crawl to the surface.

What happened next, Lucifer didn’t care.

He heard Michael desperately scream that he had to fight. He felt _sorry_ for the soldier. He was only following orders, because he didn’t know how to choose for himself. He never had.

He heard the Cage open up behind him. Sam began to let himself fall in, and Lucifer did nothing to stop it. It was better this way. Gabriel was gone from this world.

When Michael tried to grab at Sam, Lucifer took over once more and dragged Michael down with him. He needed to spare this world the pain of the End Times. As imperfect as this world was, Gabriel was right. Lucifer had always been wrong, and deep down, he knew it. Gabriel was right all along.

In a flash of light, he stopped feeling.

Gabriel screamed. He could feel Lucifer’s Grace burn out. NO! He died so Lucifer wouldn’t have to. This wasn’t fair. This isn’t what he wanted.

As he wept, he felt a familiar warm glow. One he hadn’t felt since ….

“Father?”

He felt a hand on his shoulder. His Father had taken a physical form. More than that, he drew his son in for a hug. It was the warmest embrace, yet still only second to his mate’s.

“Gabriel, it’s better this way.”

He shook his head. “No. You’re wrong.”

“We knew from the beginning this had to happen. I told you when I told you he had to be cast out. You knew this from the beginning.”

“I know, but … Father, I didn’t know I’d love him so much.”

God raised a brow in surprise. He had watched, quietly, year after year as Gabriel grew more and more bitter. He watched the resentment grow out of the festering wounds of his past. “He left you. He knew what would become of you if he left, and he left regardless.”

Despite the tears, Gabriel snapped. He had never yelled at God before, but he was already dead. He wasn’t sure what more could become of him now. He had nothing to lose.

“You think I don’t know that? You think I didn’t hate him for centuries for what he did? He tore my family apart, he left me alone, turned _himself_ over to Michael without a word, and he never once tried to contact me. He spoke to his demons at every opportunity, but he couldn’t be bothered to talk to _me_! I _want_ to hate him. I _want_ to stop hurting, but … Dad, I went thousands of years without him, and it only ever got worse. It never got better, like I _prayed_ it would. I never once felt comfortable anywhere. Not with the angels, not with the demons, and not even with the pagans. But in his arms …. Even with his hand around the blade in my chest … I was home. Dad, despite everything, he’s all I ever wanted. From the moment I opened my eyes when I came into this world, he was the one. I’m sorry I left Heaven, but I couldn’t stay. Michael would have made me fight him, and I just couldn’t do it. That’s why I let him …” He stopped short. He wasn’t sure why. It felt like admitting he let Lucifer kill him meant weakness and cowardice. His gaze dropped to his feet, tears still stinging his eyes.

“I just wanted him to live. He deserved so much more than you ever gave him.”

God did not seem angry, like the angel expected him to be. More than anything, he looked understanding. Almost happy that the two had managed to find a brief happiness before the Fall. He placed a fatherly hand on his son’s shoulder and breathed, “My dear son … After all this time?”

Gabriel’s gold eyes finally met his Father’s.

“Always.”

The Holy Father nodded in understanding. Even he never imagined Gabriel would find loyalty this strong. Even despite the words exchanged that night at Elysian Fields. But he knew how perfect they were for each other. All the time apart simply proved that they needed each other.

Gabriel needed the security of his older brother. Lucifer needed the assurance that he wasn’t broken. When he created them, he could not have predicted this.

Without another word, God brushed a thumb against his son’s cheek and offered a smile.

There was a warm, bright sensation. When Gabriel opened his eyes, he found himself in a familiar field, with a familiar nest. A mess, of course, of scattered blankets. And gold feathers. It was _his_ nest. This was the little corner of Heaven – out of reach of the others – that he and Lucifer could use to hide from the world.

But … It felt so empty without his mate. He laid in the blankets and feathers, holding onto one that had belonged to the Morning Star. Even all these thousands of years later, it glowed bright with all the beautiful light Lucifer had to offer.

 

Death had taken it upon himself to personally escort Lucifer to Heaven. Whether it was some form of poetic justice for having been enslaved by the “bratty child” or not was hard to tell. All Lucifer knew was he was terrified of what would happen the moment he set foot back in Heaven. It felt alien to him. It wasn’t the bright, happy place he had remembered.

When he saw his father, he froze. The anger that bubbled up from years of spite – for Father not intervening when he could, or turning him into something he should never have been – subsided instantly when he saw his Father’s _smile_. He was caught unawares, unsure what to do. Before he knew it, his Father had pulled him into the second most welcomed embrace he could have asked for.

“I’m sorry, Lucifer,” he said. “For everything. You were the only one I could trust to be the Adversary. I needed balance.” God’s arms tightened a little around the fallen angel, extending some of his Divine warmth to his son. “Can you ever forgive me?”

Hearing the words was jarring, and brought the Morning Star to tears. He buried his face in his father’s chest and sobbed softly. “Father, you must forgive _me_. Please. I never wanted any of my brothers to die, and I-“

“I know,” God said, humor tinting his words.

The humor was lost on Lucifer. He clung to his father, soaking in every comfort he could get. “I didn’t want to. He had his blade, and I was scared and-“

“I know.” The humor was replaced by a soothing tone. “If I thought for an instant you killed Gabriel for any malicious reason, I would have told you by now.”

Lucifer’s eyes finally met God’s, brows knitting together in confusion.

“Lucifer, I’m proud of you.” God offered a smile. “If there had been a way to avoid your fall, believe me, I would have seen to it that you could have stayed. But there wasn’t. And you did your best. And, despite everything, you still refused to fight Michael.” A comforting kiss was placed on his son’s forehead. “I think you’ve earned a happy ending. I think you deserve to come home.”

A lump rose into Lucifer’s throat.

“Father, will all due respect, it’s not much of a home without Gabriel.”

A knowing smile tugged at God’s lips. “Funny. He said the same about you.” With a gentle chuckle at Lucifer’s confusion, he escorted his son further into Heaven. “Come on. There’s someone that desperately needs to see you.”

They passed by everything. The humans, the wary and confused angels that remained unsure what to do without Michael’s guidance, even the remains of the Garden of Eden.

“Father, what-“ His voice trailed off when he felt a familiar Grace. He froze altogether, his own Grace knotting up in terror. He didn’t know what to expect. After everything he had done, there was no way. Still, he found himself hopefully breathing, “Gabriel?”

The younger angel tensed up. His first reaction was the fear that his Father had decided to taunt him with the knowledge that his brother was doomed to an eternity outside of Heaven’s Gates. But when he turned around, he gaped.

There he was.

The two ran toward each other and immediately sought comfort in each other’s embrace. They finally felt at home. Their Graces intermingled, instantly remembering every nuance of the other. Tears once again pricked at Gabriel’s eyes when he realized. Lucifer felt _warm_ again. He pulled the elder closer in an attempt to touch as much of him as possible with as much of his own body as possible.

The idle thought in the back of Gabriel’s mind whispered that Lucifer had truly died, and it cut him like a knife. He had sacrificed himself so Lucifer might live. So the Winchesters would put Lucifer back in the Cage because anything would have been better than watching Michael kill him.

But here he was. Just as he was before the fall. And nothing could have made him happier.

He felt choked up. They had been given a second chance. Far out of reach of the others. Far out of sight. No one could bother them ever again.

Lips crashed against lips in urgent desperation, craving the validation they had needed for far too long. That they were wanted. That they were _still_ wanted. After everything they had been through, they were still in love. The knowledge of that, at least, was all the Heaven they needed.

“I love you, Luci,” Gabriel managed to squeak out.

“I love you too, Gabe.”


End file.
